


come as you are

by badAquatic, orphan_account



Series: Trailerstuck [19]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alien Culture, Alien Mythology/Religion, Alien Planet, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human/Troll Society, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Canon Fantrolls, Confessions, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, Illustrated, Interspecies, M/M, Older Man/Younger Woman, Past Relationship(s), Threesome - F/M/M, Underage Drinking, four loko, kanaya the sassy helpful friend, tavros nitram: nook destroyer, troll kesha is terrible, who the fuck is mierfa?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-23
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-06 04:54:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/731657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badAquatic/pseuds/badAquatic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Its the end of junior year and Karkat Vantas only has one thing on his mind: Terezi and her forgiveness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. on the matter of terezi pyrope

**== >Karkat: Be crabbier than usual **

 

 

Oh yeah, you can definitely do that. It’s Thursday morning and judging by everyone pretending not to stare at you, Terezi has probably posted about her current relationship with ( _bluh_ ) Kankri. Why would Terezi hook up with Kankri? _Kankri_ —the troll who’s earliest memory you have of is slurping down a drink and shouting for you to shut the hell up because he was hungover as fuck. What in the hell would Terezi see in that alcoholic asshole? The worst part about it was that you had to hear this all second-hand from Strider since Terezi de-friended you.

You’ve spent the entire week in a bundle of emotions: upset that Terezi isn’t talking to you, angry at Kankri for being flushed with Terezi, frustrated that you’re sweating up a storm, stressed and annoyed from finals week. You spent last night editing papers you swapped with Strider. Hopefully, your combined knowledge of grammar and the English language will warrant you both a passing grade in History.

You stand outside the History classroom, holding your plastic folder containing your History essay (“On Human-Troll Interactions in the Late 21st Century on the Mainland“) and accompanying research materials, including a two-page bibliography. It’s early in the morning and people are arriving one by one, waiting for the teacher to show up.

Waiting.

And waiting…

After five minutes you snarl, “Oh where the hell is _Aranea?”_

Kanaya shrugs, “Don’t look at me, Karkat. I don’t live with her. She’s most likely preoccupied busy gathering all her things. Exams are a big deal for teachers too.”

“She should be here at nine like everyone else!” you huff, “I have better fucking things to do with my time than wait for a ceruleanblood to show up _to her own fucking class._ Vriska, what in the hell? How in fuck are _you_ here?”

Vriska rolls her eyes, “Um, because I _don’t_ want to put up with my Mom’s car and having to listen to traditional Alternian music all the way downtown. The bus may be crowded and fucking terrible but it’s _nothing_ compared to traditional Alternian music. Have you ever _listened_ to traditional Alternian music?”

“Not anything outside of what Kurloz, Mituna, and Rufioh play on banjo…at _three fucking AM_.” you huff.

“Two words: scream singing.” Vriska growled.

“Scream singing?” you ask. “You mean like what rock stars do when they’re too uncreative to actually understand what a ‘melody’ is?”

“I _wish_ that’s what it was.” Kanaya sighs, “Perhaps it would be considerably more _tolerable_ to listen to.”

“Mom’s probably talking to Horuss. They’ve been palling around since Rufioh got that black eye.” Vriska snickers, “They’re probably rails with pails.”

“ _Ew_.” is Tavros’s contribution to this conversation.

Vriska grins, “Oh come off it, Pupa. We’re already _cousins_.”

“Don’t remind me.” Tavros grumbles, “I’d rather be related to a pack of rabid weasels stuffed into a troll bodysuit than be your cousin.”

You grumble and start fanning yourself with your folder. “As long as we’re stuck in this shitty hallway can somebody open a fucking window at least? It’s like a fucking sauna.”

Rose raises an eyebrow, “Like that would even make the difference standing in a _hallway,_ Karkat. Why are you still sweating like that? I thought your fertility cycle was over?”

“It _is_ over and my fertility cycle is nobody’s fucking business!” you snap.

Rose smirks, “I doubt it is over if you’re acting like a woman in the beginning of PMS.”

“I can’t fucking stand you snarky broads and your horseshit…” you growl.

“I thought I was the snarky broad full of horse shit, Karkat?” Kanaya asks, “I’m almost offended you would use someone else for my treasured nickname.”

“You’re the broad bugging, fussing, and meddling with everything. And what is up with that outfit? The principal is going to flip the fuck out with you showing that much skin.”

Kanaya rolls her eyes, “It’s the last day of school, Karkat. What are they going to do? Put me in detention? No one here cares about their job _that_ much.”

The door at the end of the hall creaks open. You look over—hoping to see Aranea—and see Sollux walking over instead. You groan, _“Oh for fuck’s sake!”_

Sollux glares at you, “Good morning to you too, KK.” He looks at the shut classroom door, “Where’s Serket?”

“Probably off tonguing Nitram’s Commie Hunting Dad or whatever they’re really doing.” you growl.

 _“Ewwwww._ ” Tavros groans.

Vriska sticks out her tongue in disgust, “Ew! I didn’t say ‘tonguing’! _Nobody_ wants that pairing!”

“Nobody but your mother who _still isn’t fucking here!_ ” you snarl.

Sollux looks at the others, “What crawled up his ass and died?”

Tavros rolls his eyes, “He’s in heat.”

“I’m not in heat!” you growl, “My heat ended a week ago!”

“Obviously not if you’re behaving like this.” Kanaya said.

“Its ninety degrees outside and my body temperature’s already ridiculous! Cut me some fucking slack!” You wipe the sweat out of your eyes, “Where the fuck is Terezi?”

Sollux rolls his eyes, “You saw her on the bus and she’s still not talking to you so don’t bug me about that shit either. Terezi’s got her own problems.”

Immediately, your internal alarms go off. “What? What’s wrong with her? Is she alright? Is Kankri being an asshole?”

“Gods, calm the fuck down, KK. Kankri isn’t like some horrible monster. Terezi says he’s been sober all week.”

You roll your eyes, “Bullshit. I grew up with that drunken asshole. I’ll believe it when I see Kankri look at a cold can of Pabst and not start chugging it down. What’s wrong with Terezi then?”

“Calm your male-tits, KK.” Sollux growls, “Terezi just has a stomach virus or something. Her stomach’s just upset. Probably the shit in the water or that same bug Eridan had last year.”

“That’s a big deal! Somebody should be with her!”

“Not _you_ , KK. She still platonically hates every pound of you as much as your hipster human _loves_ you.” Sollux snickers.

“Shut up! We are _not_ that serious!” you huff.

“You’re the one who said ‘I love you’ first.” Strider adds in

“Shut it, Strider! This isn’t about us!” you say.

“Hey, Strider, since KK weighs about three of you, does that make you a chubby chaser?” Sollux snickers.

“I am not _chubby_!” you growl.

Strider chuckles. “Don’t worry, Karkat. Your jiggly rump is the only one I consider plush enough to handle the Strider swag.”

“Strider, what are you eve— _oh! Hey! Fuck, don’t do that!_ ” because this is the moment Strider thinks it would be funny to pinch your glute. You jerk away from him.

Strider smirks, “Do what?”

“Don’t do that in front of everyone!”

“It’s not my fault, Mr. Plushrump. I’m deathly ill.” Strider grins, arching his white eyebrows, “I got a fever and the only prescription is more of _dat_ _ass_.”

“Stop broadcasting to everyone we know about _my ass_!”

“ _Karkat._ ” comes the stern voice.

You look down the hall and lo and behold, Aranea Serket has finally arrived. She is wearing a black dress and a blue top. Her hair is messy and the bottom of part of her dress is tucked into her stocking.

“I know this is the last time I’ll be teaching you Early 21st Century History, but I would prefer if you try and stave your usual flow of profanity for our last few moments together for the summer.” says the ceruleanblood history teacher.

“What took you so long? We’ve been waiting out here since seven!” you ask.

Aranea clears her throat and adjusts her shirt to hide her twisted bra strap. “I was speaking with a colleague about personal matters; nothing more.”

Vriska smirks, “Then why’s your shirt on backwards?”

Kanaya grins, “ _Hm._ It looks like our mother put it back on in a _hurry_ , dear sister.”

“I was speaking with a colleague on a personal matter!” Aranea insists.

Kanaya smiles, “What does said ‘colleague’ study exactly? English? Science?”

“Do they possess a major in Sloppy Make Outs and a minor in Erogenous Zone Studies?” Rose offers with a chuckle.

“ _Ew!_ That’s still my _father._ ” Tavros groans.

Nepeta rolls her eyes, “Don’t be such a _human_ , Nitram.”

“Quiet _all_ of you!” Aranea shoves her key in the classroom door, “What I discussed with my colleague is my personal business and if you’re putting this much effort into something as petty as gossiping about your History teacher’s quadrants, then your essays—which are mandated to have at least a C to pass my class—must be worth their weight in academic gold.”

“ _Quadrants_ you say?” You look to Nepeta, “You better rev up your markers for your shipping wall.”  

Nepeta smiles and holds up her red and black markers, “I _always_ come purr-pared for quadrant shifts. I couldn’t call myself a shipping wall master if I wasn’t.”

 _“Papers. Now.”_ Aranea growls, entering the classroom.

You snicker. Aranea can hide in her cobweb filled hole of quadrant obscurity but you can tell by the cerulean blush on her face that she’s definitely got quadrants on the brain.  

You hand in your papers one by one, Aranea making the occasional comment on the folder and weight on the essay. You see Terezi enter the room a half-hour later; pale and sweating like she’s just run a marathon. You try to ask her what in the hell is wrong with her. She ignores you (of course) but pays full attention to Tavros when he asks.

It’s something you bitch about to Strider the minute you leave the class. “It’s not like I’m an unfeeling asshole, y’know! I have feelings too! Even though she considers me an asshole I can still worry about her! That’s not against the rules!”

Strider walks down the hallway and replies, “She’s probably more annoyed now that you’re still treating Kankri like Public Enemy Number One even though he’s sobered up.”

You roll your eyes, “I’ll believe Kankri’s sober when I fucking see it. This isn’t the first time he pulled this shit.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Kankri’s always sober until the mood swings start kicking in. Then things fall into place like they always fucking do: he throws a huge rage fit, breaks something, freaks the fuck out, hits The Vast Chug, and shows up hours later unconscious and in a pool of vomit somewhere with more holes in his brain. With how much that man drinks, he probably doesn’t even remember his _teen_ _years_ clearly.”

“How violent does he get? I already saw your eye.”

You stare at Strider as your descend the stairs to the first floor.

“One time I asked him if he could drive me to the comic book shop up on Park Avenue. He threw the coffee table at my head. I’m just lucky I ducked in time so it hit the wall. He screamed at me the entire time without tagging his triggers, stormed out of the trailer, and then drove off. He then bar hopped every single place downtown and didn’t come back to the trailer until about three in the morning. Oh, but he didn’t come to _our_ trailer. _Oh no._ He went to Kurloz’s trailer and passed out covered in his own vomit. My mother was up all night waiting for that asshole to come back! He wasn’t even sure if he was dead or alive! This was the fifth time this had happened and that shit’s been going on since I was a kit, so, _no,_ I’m not fond of being badgered to quickly believe Kankri’s sobriety. Kankri has three fucking states of mind: mopey, angry, and drunk. It’s been that way since I can remember and it might as well be his natural state for all I fucking care.”

“Alright, alright. _Shit_ , calm your male-tits already.”

 _“Oh no.”_ You glare at Strider, “Don’t _you_ start saying that you might as well start sleeping on the fucking couch.”

“It’s my trailer and my couch and you’re the species that only has tits for your ‘females’ despite being _intersexual._ ”

“Don’t look at me! I’m not the idiot who thought that biological decision makes fucking _sense_!”

“Speaking of Biology, I got an exam to prepare for.”

“Yeah, in like two hours.”

“And if I don’t mentally prepare for it, it’s gonna kick my ass.” Strider replies in a tone that lets you know he’s rolling his eyes behind those dark shades.

“I don’t see why you didn’t take Biology when all the rest of us did.”

“So I could double-up on History of course. Two classes worth of Aranea monologuing are worth the free period next year.”  Strider gives you a “duh” shrug, followed by a kiss on the lips, “Not like I’m gonna be gone _forever,_ Crabkat.”

You lean into the kiss, smirking. You grab his arm, wanting to pull him closer, “Is your mission in life supposed to be annoying me to no end?”

Strider pulls out of your grip, “Hey, calm your hormones. I know you’re more than willing to have some fun since my ill beat is so sick and take a ride on my disco stick but seriously: school comes first.”

“…did…did you _seriously_ just call your weird pale bulge a ‘disco stick’?”

Strider walks past you, in direction of the library. “Would you have preferred love stick?”

“No.”

Of course he doesn’t stop even when he’s walking away from you. Like Strider cares that he’s embarrassing you from three feet away.

“Love muscle?” he asks at four feet.

“No!”

“What about magic wand?” he suggests at five feet.

_“Gods no!”_

“I thought the seatroll in you would love that!”

“You are shouting phrases _for your fucking dick down the hallway you moron!_ ”

“I’m not hearing a _no_ to magic wand!” Strider ducks down another hall snickering.

“SHUT! UP! FUCKING STIRDER!” you huff.

“Gee, KK,” a familiar lisping voice says behind you, “I can just _feel_ the flush radiating off the two of you. When’s the wedding?”

You turn around and glare at Sollux. The yellowblood has his bulky AR goggles pushed up on his face, his back pack slung over his shoulder, and an armful of books.

“Oh shut up, _Tholluckth_.” you say, “What are you doing? Clearing out your books so you can sell them to the sophomores?”

“Well, no fucking duh, but I’m cleaning out my locker now so I don’t have to come to school tomorrow.” Sollux grins, “Unlike you, Mr. Genius, I’m not in _Geometry_ with the _turtles._ ”

You roll your eyes, “Oh yeah; like I really want to be in _Calc_ , full of nerds and nakking lizards.”  

The New Jack City stereotypes were that while crocodiles were good at math and bad at driving and swimming (the irony), turtles were bad at everything— _especially_ math. Nobody wants to be a turtle. Not even _turtles_ want to be _turtles_.   

“By the way, asshole, I have a bone to pick with you.” Sollux says.

“Oh what now? Gods, Sollux, you act like we’re still pitch. Newsflash to Planet Bumblebee: middle school ended and I moved on.”

“Keep it in your pants, Mr. Pheremones. I’d rather snip off my bulges with garden shears than pitch you again. By the way, bulgebag: you ran over my mailbox last week and didn’t even fucking bother apologizing!”

“I did?”

“Yes, you fucking did! You whacked it down the fucking road with your shitty driving last Friday! Dad said some asshole in a truck filled with swords and lusus parts swerving all over the damn road came by and hit the mailbox!”

You briefly recall last Friday: spending your early morning with Jake, returning to the trailer feeling emotionally exhausted, receiving a mid-morning call from Kanaya for you to come pick Feferi and her up, experiencing the hazards of operating a bulky hovertruck when you had no idea how to manage a stick shift, and Kanaya ordering that you stop the truck before you killed them all.

“Ohhh… _shit_.” You run a claw through your hair, “Sorry, Sollux. Kanaya needed a ride from Feferi’s place and I’ve never drove stick shift before.”

“Do you even have a _license?_ ” Sollux grunts, “What if I was getting the mail when you whacked the mailbox? I would be _dead!_ ”

“I have a permit and I said I was sorry, asshole! It’s not my fault I had to pick up _your_ girlfriend!”              

Sollux folds his arms and answers tersely, “If you mean FF, she’s not my girlfriend. We broke up.”

Your eyes widen, “ _Really_?”

“Terezi’s right. You wouldn’t pay attention to anyone else around you even if they were on fucking _fire_.”

“Hey! I notice plenty about people!” you grumble, “We’re in fucking high school, Sollux. People make up and break up every other week.”

“If ghosts and curses were real, I would seriously consider giving _you_ one.” Sollux growls. 

“I don’t deserve a curse for just running over your godsdamned stupid—”

 _“Boys.”_ The door to a classroom opens up and out steps your old Algebra teacher, “There are students taking tests in some of these classrooms. Could you save your bickering for the student lounge?”

“We don’t have a student lounge anymore.” says Sollux.

“Well, not since those two girls got pregnant.” you add.

“Wasn’t one of those girls Beck Stevenson?” asks Sollux.

“No way. Beck Stevenson was doing that guy who hooked her up with coke.”

“You can’t get coke in Ne—”

 _“Boys!”_ the Algebra teacher repeats and points to the end of the hall, “Outside before I consider putting you in detention!”

You roll your eyes and walk in direction of the door. No one’s going to be willing to give detention over the summer because it means someone is going to have to watch you during their vacation time. Sollux follows you because apparently the lisping asshole isn’t done chewing you out. You exit the school building and walk into the blazing summer sun. The air of downtown is thick with the smell of hovercar exhaust and the garbage from the cafeteria is reeking. Only a week into finals and the athletic field is turning multiple shades of yellow and brown from neglect.

You sit on the cement steps on the side of the building. You watch a tinkerbull headbutt a squirrel for dominance over a trash can.

“Anyways, why did Feferi and you break up?” you ask Sollux.

“We. Broke. Up.” Sollux growls over the sound of tinkerbulls and squirrels at war, “Thank you for bringing up such a _great_ reminder of how shitty my life is, _asshole_.”

“This is my first time hearing about it, _asshole_.” you say, “How are you holding up? Do you want to be a lisping jerk with terrible choices in music or do you want to talk about it?”

“Says the asshole who listens to fucking _reggae fusion_ and _ska punk._ Can you even hear me all the way back in the fucking _Ninth Age_?”

“Fuck you; Troll Sublime and The Troll Offspring are always going to be more awesome than you could ever imagine.”

Sollux groans and rubs his temples, irritated, “Ugh! I don’t even know _why_ we’re friends!”

“I’m trying to be helpful, you douchebag! Let’s just hang out tomorrow or something! We don’t fucking hang out enough!”

Sollux rolls his mutated red-blue eyes, “That’s because you’re boring as hell to hang out with. All you do is try to stick your nose in my personal life.”

“I only do that because you hate talking about what’s going on until it’s way too late to do anything about it. Let’s go…I don’t know…” You mentally grasp for the first thing that comes to mind, “…spelunking or some shit!”

“What the hell is spelunking?” Sollux frowns, “I don’t do drugs!”

“Oh my gods, Sollux, do you not know _anything_ about activities _not_ involving a fucking computer?” you groan, “It’s when you go exploring in the woods or in the city or wherever. You know: the thing your so-called _moirail_ likes to do. When was the last time you saw _sunlight_ , Captor?”

“Like there’s anything charming about the outdoors in New Jack City. There’s garbage everywhere, mosquitoes, mud, shit and dead things _in_ the mud so _noooo_ thank you.” Sollux snorts, “I need to spend my time earning money with my coding.”

You wipe a line of dripping sweat from your forehead, “Sollux, you need to get outside. It’s not even monsoon season yet so we can still hang around outside. We could actually do something fun.”

Sollux tilts his head. “Like what?”

“Like…I don’t know.” You grasp at another straw, “Like, prove there’s no such thing as ghosts.”

Sollux stares at you.

“Seriously, KK? _Seriously?”_ Sollux asks, “You’re bugging me to go do something with you and the first thing you think about is looking for fucking _ghosts_? I’m not going to be like those assholes on Ghost Hunters with you. I will not be the Troll Grant to your Jason.”

“Oh come on. We’re not going to prove ghosts exist. I’m saying we go and disprove them.” You grin, “And I know just the place.”

“What place could we possibly go to disprove that there’s no ghosts? A funhouse?”

“Darkleer Manor.” Sollux frowns and you add, “Everybody, _including_ _our_ _parents_ , think that place is haunted.”

Sollux’s frown intensifies. He’s silent for a minute before saying, “It isn’t.”   

“So. You’re not too scared to go there then?” you ask.

“Of course I’m not scared to go to Darkleer Manor! Are you scared?”

“Nope! Why in fuck should I be scared? I’m not scared.” You fold your arms, “So we go to Darkleer Manor. Just you and me, and some flashlights and a camera to prove…we’re not scared.”

“Fine, but I’m just doing this to prove _I’m not scared!_ ”

“The same. Fuck, if it was closer to Eldritch Night I’d go there without a problem.”

“Well, if we wait seven days it’ll be a new moon! It’d be dark as all fuck and I’ll _still_ go!”

Now it’s become less about you trying to make Sollux feel better and open up about what happened with Feferi and returning to the old blackflame you had when you were just becoming hormonal teenagers. Your pitch was a strange one and your first real interaction with quadrants. Sollux wasn’t a violent kismesistude, but you were still young after all. All you did was kiss aggressively and annoy each other to your never-ending delight.

“Fine then! Let’s do that! Let’s go to Darkleer Manor in the darkness! I’m not scared at all!”

It is only a minute after you say this that you realize—in the back of your mind—on what scale of a _terrible idea_ this decision is. Every child in the mobilehive park has gone through the traditional dare of visiting Darkleer Manor on Eldritch Night, the most haunted night of the year where it’s said the dead roam the streets of New Jack City. New Jack City isn’t called the City of Ghosts just to get tourists interested; there are at least a hundred ghost stories that took place here.

Darkleer Manor was hidden away, entrenched in the heart of the swamp where only the most feral lusii roamed. You were eight when Vriska dared Sollux and you to go to the Manor on Eldritch Night and come back alive.  

On Eldritch Night, you went to the swamps…without Sollux since he conveniently caught the stomach flu that day and couldn’t go. You brought Eridan along with you but, as usual, your chickenshit brother ditched you when things got too scary. You spent another thirty minutes wandering around in the mud with your little plastic flashlight before you got stuck in knee-deep muck. You sobbed for a full hour before Rufioh found you and flew you back to your trailer. You refused to let go of the brownblood though and your mother had to lure you away with a plate of bacon.

“You’re not going to chicken out like last time, _right_?” you ask.

“I won’t! I got sick last time!” Sollux huffs.

“Bullshit. You were scared as shit.” you say, “Is it cause your Grandpa mysteriously disappeared at that place like Equius and copperslut’s grandfather?”

“He didn’t fucking _disappear_ …” Sollux shudders and mutters, “He was murdered, dumbfuck. They found his body floating in the goldfish pond…the Winter Aconite, remember?”

“Really?” you mumble, “I didn’t realize that was him. Mom always told me it was someone else.” You sigh, “Mom always tries to sugar-coat the truth with Eridan and me though.”

You remember the time your mother told you that your goldfish ran away from home. It took your eight year old mind two whole months to realize it had died.

Sollux hunches over and wipes more sweat off of his face. He says, in a constricted voice, “Aunt Damara was the one that found him first. He…my grandfather was face down in the pond. Both his arms had been cut off at the bicep, his eyes gouged out, and he was cut open like a deer from his neck to the hollow of his left thigh.” He swallows, “And they never caught who did it.”

You wince, _“Ew._ ” Sollux glares at you and you cough, “I mean, that’s pretty fucking gruesome and tragic. Why would anyone kill the Psionic though?”

“Dad said it was a cultist sort of kill. Back on Old Alternia, that’s how you would prepare a…a sacrifice to the Courts of Hell.” The yellowblood taps a claw on his throat, “Whoever did it carved the mark of the Prince of Pitch and Lies on _here_ ”—he taps a claw to his forehead—“and the mark of the Princess of Emptiness and Hate here.”

“Your Dad knows, _er,_ knew about that supernatural hocus-pocus bullshit?” You think about it a minute and nod, “Oh yeah. Right. Crazy grandma and crazy sister. Why is Aradia the only rustblood not cutting up chickens and chanting about demonic sacrifices in that family?”        

Sollux shrugs, “Must get it from her father.”

“Whoever he is. I’m surprised they killed the Psionic and not my grandfather considering he was, y’know, Jegus. Or even the Grand Highblood since he was so tough and nigh-impossible to kill.” You pause, “Do you think the murderer had an accomplice?”

“I have _no_ idea. I just know he was murdered and Dualscar threw a fit about it and tried to strangle the Handmaiden.”

“Really? Maybe Eridan would know more about it then since Mom hates talking about everything and anything involving Dualscar. Not that I blame him.”

That train of thought sets off a light bulb in your brain. Eridan Ampora. Your younger brother. The sniveling little seashit who was obsessed with wizards, military history, and pretending that he was still a “highblood” despite being shitpoor and on an alien planet. You haven’t talked to Eridan and he hasn’t talked to you; not after you went on your rant after Kankri was assaulted. You’d been ignoring his presence like you always do but you didn’t see him at any of the exams, which are critical for passing junior year. Your mother hasn’t talked to him or seen him around.

“By the way…have you seen Eridan around?” you ask.

Sollux looks away, “Nope.”

You sigh, “I honestly don’t give a shit about the little creep but he hasn’t shown up at school and he’ll flunk if he doesn’t take his finals. Is he being an asshole and pulling that run away from home shtick like in middle school?” You roll your eyes, “If it’s _that_ stupidity again, I hope Dualscar would just smack sense back into him like before.”

“Dualscar is too sick to even _move_.” Sollux stands and dusts off his ratty jeans, “I’ll meet you in seven days near Rufioh’s trailer.”

You stand up, “Fine.” Another lightbulb goes off and you narrow your eyes, “Wait… _who_ told you about Dualscar?”

Sollux glares at you. “I just heard around, okay? Geeze! My sister is Terezi! She’s gossip central! You know that!”

“Uh huh…” you mutter; your suspicion senses tingling.

“It’s true! Terezi would tell you if she didn’t _hate_ you.”

You growl, “Stop trying to change the fucking subject. It’s…things with Terezi and me are complicated. You should be putting in a good word for me with her since I’m your fucking _friend_.”

Sollux rolls his eyes, “If she doesn’t like you, I’m not helping you. She’s like my second awesome Mom and I can’t change her mind easy.” The yellowblood turns from you before you can add more to your argument, “I’ve got a Nehetalian exam to get ready for, KK, so got to go.”

You sigh, “Yeah, fine, Sollux. Talk to you later. And don’t forget: seven days!”

“Yeah, KK. Seven days. I’ll even bring my camera as proof.”

A small part of you hopes that Sollux forgets this promise to explore Darkleer Manor though.

 

You spend the afternoon mentally kicking yourself for signing up for Creative Writing. Stupid fucking school and its godsdamned arts program. You’d rather sign up for a sport than have to deal with this shit. You weren’t interested in Chorus, Theatre, Band, or Art so you went with the less annoying and demanding class. At least your Creative Writing exam was about story flow and writing short essays based on pain in the ass questions. Though it beats dealing with Egbert and his crowd of theatre geeks or the asshole art teacher. Strider is still taking his exam by the time you’re done with yours, so you relax in the library. The librarian’s taken off for the last week of school so it’s been a free-for-all on the computers and taking books off-record. You browse the romance section and debate about what to read for the summer.

You debate between choosing something by Troll Holly Black (which you’ve seen posts about on Nitram’s Trollbook) or maybe sneaking a peek at some of the trollmanga that’s slowly infecting this section. Having Terezi ignore you has pushed trollmanga and anime to the front of your mind again.

You’re leafing through the second volume of Troll InuYasha when you hear Vriska’s voice, “So you coming to the party tomorrow, Rezi?”

“You bet!” Terezi laughs, “It feels like it’s been ages since we had a get together.”

You peek out of the rows of books and see Terezi and Vriska sitting near the computers, both preoccupied with their iHusks.

Terezi grins, “How’d you talk Aranea into letting you throw a party?”

Vriska laughs, “What Mom doesn’t know won’t kill her. Plus, she’s spending a weekend in the north with her new best friend Horuss doing something or other.”

Terezi smirks, “Each other?”

Vriska sticks out her tongue, “I _hope_ not; the last thing I want is more brats running around the trailer.”

“Well, it’s going to be one hell of a party. You practically invited everyone!”

“Trolls only of course. I’m tired of being up to my armpits in aliens. And none of the lameoid trolls are invited either.”

Well, that explains why you haven’t heard anything about a party—even on Trollbook. It was being kept under wraps since you have been lumped into the “lameoid” group of trolls. Though, a party gives you plenty of opportunity to talk to Terezi. Maybe you can get her alone in a room so you can talk one on like, just like you did before…back when you were the best of friends. You still don’t understand what you did that was fucking terrible. You just know that you could…if you just find the _right words_ she’d forgive you in a heartbeat.

Vriska smirks and asks in a near-whisper, “So…what’s it like having an older guy with more…experience?”

Terezi blushes, “Well… _yeah._ That’s sort of a given.”

Ew. This is something you _definitely_ don’t want to hear about. After dealing with your parents sexless matespritship, the idea of Kankri and Terezi doing it just…just doesn’t compute. It doesn’t turn your stomach like it does with Dave when he thinks about Jake and Dirk going at it ( _loudly_ going at it, with you and Dave trying to ignore the noise), but it’s hard to fathom Kankri wanting to have sex; or wanting to do _anything_ outside of downing another Pabst. It was your grandfather who always had to kick Kankri’s glute into gear to get him to do anything.

“What about his bulge? I heard post-adult molt it gets… _bigger._ ”

“Well yeah. _Everything_ gets bigger.” Terezi’s face is bright teal as she admits this, “He’s pretty much gone years without sex so his sex drive is waking up again. I hope he gets a kismesis soon. He’s even exhausting _me._ ”

Vriska laughs, “That’s muties for you: hormonal as fuck. I bet Kurloz is going crazy smelling that.”

“Oh definitely and Kankri knows it.” Terezi pushes her glasses up on her face, “Kankri’s been trying to get more active around the house so now he’s taken to mowing and watering the lawn…in a sweater and summer shorts. Kurloz is always looking at him through the window and looking irritated.”

Vriska stands up, “You better deal with that then and your little…” She smirks, “…situation?”

Terezi sighs, “Don’t remind me. I still have to think about what I’m going to do.”

Vriska shrugs, “You’ll do the right thing. You’re one of the smarter trolls in school.”

The ceruleanblood walks out of the library. You grab Troll Inuyasha and Valiant by Troll Holly Black and follow her. You pass by Terezi, not even sparing her a glance. After all, you spent the entire week attempting to talk to her (and failing) so now you’re after another goal.

Vriska walks to the locker room and opens it. She tossed her bookbag on the ground and starts pulling out a mound of crumpled papers, notebooks, and textbooks. She’s not the only one clearing out their locker. For running such a ratty looking school, the principal is anal retentive about everything looking tidy. If everything isn’t cleaned out by tomorrow after the last exam, it would be packaged up and donated to the closest Goodwill.

“Hey, Vriska.” you say.

Vriska doesn’t look at you as she flips through her Physics book, debating if it’s worth salvaging. “What do _you_ want?”

“So…you’re having a party tomorrow?”

“ _And_?”

“So what? My invitation get lost in the mail or something.”

“You weren’t _invited_.” Vriska drawls, rolling her eyes.

“Why the fuck not? I’ve known all of you since we were hatched!” you huff, “I even remember that how Kanaya kept auspitizing between Tavros and you throughout middle school!”

“Because you and Eridan are the most lameoid trolls to ever exist on the _planet_?” Vriska offers, “You’re like the lamest siblings to ever be hatched. Super Lame-O Brothers with Lame-io and Lame-igi. Copywritten by Trolltendo.”

“Hey, Eridan may be lame but there’s no way in hell _I_ am! At least I’m not a military history geek or worshipping the ground Dualscar can no longer walk on!” You smile and decide to appeal to Vriska’s devious side if she’s not so easily persuaded, “And I know how much you love annoying Terezi. It’d annoy her if you invited me…”

“Yeah, but Terezi’s my best friend.”

You stare at her. “…what? Your…best friend?”

“Well yeah. She’s been my best friend for the past two years.”

You feel your heart sink lower in your chest. You mutter, “Friends? Well, you … two were hanging out more. I thought that was just for the RPG club.”

Vriska shakes her head. “Nope. Not just that.”

Your shoulders sag, “…I miss her, Vriska. I miss hearing her voice. Having her smile at me. Talking to me about terrible troll anime…and now she won’t even look in my direction. She’s the best friend I ever had and I hurt her without even knowing it. I liked being in…well, I don’t know if we were in the friendzone or not but I just liked being kind to her without expecting anything. It was…comfortable.”

Vriska shuts her locker and looks at your face. She groans, “Oh my _gods_. You look like a kicked puppy that’s sitting in the rain. Enough of the fucking moping and doping for once. Listen…maybe— _just_ _maybe_ —if you bring beer I _might_ let you into the party.”

You smirk, “Heh. I think the question should be ‘ _how_ much booze are you bringing’? There’s a reason Kankri is called Bottomless Vantas…and it’s not just a sexual thing; or related to his glute.”

Vriska tilts her head, “I thought he was called Drunken Fatass Bastard?”

“Well, yeah, that’s what _I_ called him. But getting booze should be easy. Our kitchen looked like a fucking Costco.”

“Good luck getting booze without Kankri noticing you. We’re not allowed to drink until we’re eighteen.” Vriska walks away from her locker, “Remember: no booze, no invite!”

“I’ll get the booze!” you insist.

It doesn’t occur to you until a minute later that Terezi may have tossed out all the booze in the house. You don’t have an ID to prove you’re eighteen, or the money to bribe someone to buy you alcohol. You know the moonshine Jake makes is off-limits and would probably set anyone who wasn’t Young British’s throat on fire.

You better clean out your locker too and plot about your next plan of action.


	2. on the matter of mister scrate

**== >Karkat: Be Dave **

 

3:34PM

 

You are now Dave Strider and you are having a mature conversation with one of your best friends.

TG: no

TT: Yes.

TG: no

TT: Yes.

 

You’ve been arguing with Rose over Trollichum since you finished your exam. Rose left early and now you’re cleaning out your locker so you don’t have to show up tomorrow. Lalonde is a ghost these days; only showing up for class and disappearing afterwards. It’s annoying as all fuck and you only put up with it because you know she’s busy trying to get a scholarship. You were all for understanding…until she told you about her new ‘associate’.   

 

TG: its a terrible as fuck idea

TT: Explain to me how it is a terrible idea. I’m not going to some manor secluded in the mountains and sampling a variety of drugged drinks with the overhanging threat of me being sold into prostitution. It is just an exhibit at a museum about some ancient relics that could apply to Theohorrorcratic studies; nothing more.

TG: youre hanging out with a fully grown troll who could literally be anybody 

TG: he could be trying to lure you into a false sense of security and then bam

TG: youre  shipped off to nehetaly working in a blood and haze shrine as one of those holy whores

TT: First of all, sacred prostitution is a practice endorsed only by worshippers of the God of Blood and Haze and only a handful of them are human. On top of that, Nehetaly is a country steeped in traditional cultural values and would find a human practitioner in a temple to be offensive. If I was sold into prostitution, I would most likely be sent to a place that has human prostitutes in demand, such as New Fiji or New France.

TT: Secondly, I am only associating with this man because of a possible scholarship opportunity so that I could attend a college and pursue my field. May I remind you that we have only interacted in very public settings. I don’t see why you’re so against me associating with him, Dave.

TG: he sounds suspicious is why

TG: this guy just drops in out of the blue and talks to you about scholarships and throws his money around and yet you cant even find a picture or a trollbook or anything about him

TT: He doesn’t throw his money around.

TG: you said he bought you a collective volume of illustrated manuscripts of the zoologically dubious or whatever it was

TT: He didn’t buy it for me. He had purchased it at an auction he attended abroad and decided to loan it to me. I don’t own it; he said I could borrow it because he said he knew it would fascinate me and he was right. You can’t just buy something this rare and valuable.

TG: my point stands and he sounds like a reclusive weirdo

TG: what did you even say his name was?

TT: D. Scrate is what he prefers to be called and he is a man who values his privacy. That doesn’t make him a “weirdo”.

TG: have you even told john that youre hanging out with a strange troll over the weekend again instead of hanging out with him

TT: John is currently absorbed in his career. The one-act plays go up tomorrow and then he’s touring for Little Shop of Horrors. His plate is very full and so is mine. You can’t honestly expect me to just wait around for John to pay attention to me. I have my own goals in life and aspirations that have nothing to do with him.

TG: john doesnt mean to be a dumbass

TT: Dave, stop trying to sugarcoat the situation. I had to find out via Trollbook that my so-called boyfriend had accepted the offer of touring all over the peninsula instead of spending his summer with me, like he said he would. The writing is on the wall and the ink has been dry for quite some time, if you ask me. We are just drifting apart and this was a thing not meant to last.

TG: hes getting paid to do it though

TG: maybe he just wants to save up money to take you somewhere special

TT: I doubt it. He hasn’t dropped the slightest hint that he plans on doing anything special, or that I’m on his mind at all.

TG: its not like him just to ignore people on purpose though

TG: john cares about you he just gets caught up in whatever hes doing and forgets about shit but hes not an asshole

TT: Dave.

TT: While it’s very sweet of you to worry over my wellbeing and try to paint John in a better light, I’m afraid there’s very little you can do to sway me. I know you mean well but you’re not John.

TG: alright fine

TG: but i still dont think its a good idea to go flirting with some guy you barely know

TT: I am not flirting with him. We have a relationship based on mutual respect and interest in the same field of study.

TG: were you dressed nice when you met him on Saturday

TT: Well of course I was but it was nothing flashy. I just wore a nice dress and he wore a regular shirt. There was nothing special about it at all.

TG: i smell vague purple prosey bullshit

TT: I beg your pardon, Strider?

TG: youre like your mom rose

TG: youre all about appearances when you need to be and knowing you you probably dressed up in your cutest outfit to impress this guy

TG: and he probably wore something nice too like a suit

TT: A suit is a little much just for a friendly outing at the library, don’t you think?

TG: yeah but itd impress you

TT: It wouldn’t.

 

 

TG: would

TG: and i don’t think its a good idea to go flirting with a guy especially a troll guy whose old enough to be your father

TT: I don’t know who my father is so that analogy is lost to me, Dave. I only have suspicions as to his identity.

 

Oh gods; you branched off into this topic again. You have to quickly think of a way out.

 

TG: alright im just making sure youre not rushing into anything

TT: Dave.

TG: i always watch out for my friends even if i think theyre making a boneheaded decision

TT: Dave.

TG: i just dont want you to be one of the faces you see on the wall when you enter walmart asking have you seen me with a file photo of your face

TT: Dave, why is it so hard for you to talk about the possibility that Dirk could be my father?

TG: rose could we seriously not talk about this

TG: seriously

TG: id rather talk about contagious diseases or sexually transmitted parasites than about this

TG: id rather talk about the various stages of stp infection rather than talk about this

TT: Dave, next year we’ll be seniors and adults. Don’t you think we’re at the age to accept that, perhaps, our parents and legal guardians have kept secrets and even lied to us with the hope of protecting us?

TG: bro never lied to me

TG: ever

TT: You don’t know that.

TG: and neither do you  

TG: rose your mother is a whore which means your dad could literally be anyone in the city

TT: My mother only works that exploitative job because she wants me to be able to go to college!

TG: bullshit

TG: she likes the attention and you know it

TG: after all it means she can fuck trolls and nobody will judge her about it

TT: Fine then.

TT: After all, the daughter of a common ‘whore’ shouldn’t bother searching for her father.

TG: oh fuck

TG: rose thats not what i meant to say

TT: You made it very clear what you meant to say, Dave, so I won’t trouble you further about it.

TT: Let your brother remain a shining, gleaming man-god in your eyes and ignore the possibility that he has secrets or that he’s ever lied to you.

TT: By the way, there’s no way Dirk is your brother.

TG: what in the fuck are you talking about

TT: Dave, don’t tell me you haven’t realized the obvious differences between you two. Dirk’s face and body build are entirely different from yours.

TG: so

TG: that doesnt mean anything

TT: Dave, Dirk’s eyes are *orange*. That means Dirk’s mother ingested sopor plants before or during her pregnancy to warrant such an extreme genetic mutation. If Dirk and you have the same mother, you should actually have a *worse* mutation instead of or coinciding with albinism.

TG: shut up

TT: If Dirk and you were directly genetically related, as in brothers or parent and child, all your fingers should be webbed and your feet flat, or your spine should look like the letter S.

TG: just shut the fuck up!

TG: if i fucking wanted to put up with listening to someone bitch at me id talk to that ironbitch of a principal

TG: so just shut the fuck up you dont know what youre talking about

TG: shut up

TT: Fine then.

\--tentacleTherapist is now offline!—

 

You are clutching your iHusk hard enough to break it. You take a deep breath and slowly—very slowly—pry your fingers away from it. You’re shaking. You take another deep breath. Control. Control your fucking anger. Just take it in stride, Dave.

It’s not a big deal.

It’s bullshit.

Not everything that spews out of Lalonde’s mouth is the Word of the Gods. It’s bullshit. You shouldn’t give a shit what she says anyways. Just take it in stride and shrug this shit off.

You don’t take it in stride though. You direct your anger at the locker and slam it closed. The cheap metal door falls off with a loud _klang_. You grind your teeth and try to relax…but your fists are still balled up and your breathing is heavy.

Unfortunately, Karkat has the great timing of an earthquake because he walks over to you carrying some old papers and his backpack.

“Hey, we taking the school bus back home or what?” Karkat asks.

You grumble. The last fucking thing you want to do is talk to anyone. You’ve honestly had it up to you your ears with people; always meddling and fucking around with how things are. Why in the fuck should it matter if Bro’s related to you or not? It doesn’t matter. You don’t care. It doesn’t change anything between Bro and you.

Karkat walks closer, “Uh, Dave?”

“Yeah. Sure. Whatever.” you say in a low growl.

“Are we taking the bus or…?”

“Fine. Take the bus. I don’t give a shit.” You say.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s fucking wrong. _What_? You think I have to make all your fucking choices for you or that you have to hover over me every fucking chance you get?”

Karkat raises an eyebrow, “Okay… _whoa_. Whatever crawled up into your ass to break your hipster stride must have been huge and probably poisonous.”

“It’s none of your fucking concern. Just give me my fucking space for once, okay?”

You don’t want to look at Karkat’s face. You really can’t deal with people right now. You want to just be by yourself for a while. You just need your space and then you can deal with everyone else. You’ll be in a better mood afterwards.

 

5:16 PM

You get your space but it doesn’t put you in a better mood. Karkat does his best to avoid you. You feel guilty, knowing that the chubby troll must be running on the instincts he developed after living with his alcoholic and often violent father. He doesn’t make eye contact with you even though you ride the bus back to the trailer park. You never thought things would be more awkward as when Bro and Jake were angry at each other and only two feet apart.

Sharing a room and not wanting to be bothered isn’t helpful either.

You do everything you can to try and ease yourself out of your funk though. You try to listen to your favorite indie bands or see if you can discover some new ones through Youtube. Doesn’t help. You go on your Trollumblr and check out your fandoms. You’re really getting into underground and unknown fandoms, especially those based around little known foreign movies and TV shows. You still feel angry and frustrated though.

Not even reading through your favorite webcomic Doki Doki Heartfelt Kiss (a terrible manga-inspired webcomic with shit tier art and a story written by who you suspect is secretly a deranged five year old) can get a giggle out of you. You end up just laying on your bed and staring at your desktop wallpaper—which is a black and white photograph you took of Happy Harbor. You were always proud of how even in greyscale, the urban shittiness still shone through.

You’re still irritated.

When it comes to you and anger, you’re like an old hovercar. Once you get started it’s hard to stop.

You just sit there and stare into space. You haven’t even gone online in Trollichum. Even talking to people online seems like a chore.

 

5:53 PM   

 

Karkat pokes his head in the room, “Heading over to Kankri’s.”

“Uh huh.” you mutter.  

“Might not be back right away.”

“Sure.” you say.

Karkat rolls his eyes. “Alright. Fine.”

You don’t respond. Karkat walks off with a grumble. You hear the door slam. You get tired of staring at your desktop and shut the husktop lid. You lay your head down on the bed and try not to distract your thoughts.

The world seems insistent on not letting you be at peace though because thirty minutes later you hear Jake call you.    

“Dave. Dinner.”

“Not hungry.” you mumble into the mattress.

You should have shouted your response because you hear footsteps coming towards the room.

“Dave?” You hear the door open. Jake chuckles, “And here I thought your mopey teenaged days were over.”

“I’m not moping.”

“Well something is bothering you. Karkat scurried out of here faster than a rat from a sinking ship.” You feel Jake lowers his tremendous bulk the bed, which makes you slump in his direction. You turn over and face the wall. Jake nudges you, “Come on, Dave. Out with it.”  

“It’s not a big deal and there’s nothing wrong so you might as well just go, alright?” you growl.

“Now what kind of co-father would I be if I were to just walk off when you were obviously in need?” You don’t respond and Jake says, “I notice you haven’t been hanging out with John or Rose lately. Did you have a fight?”

“I never fight with anyone.”

“Now, Dave. You may think you’re Mr. Calm-and-Cool all the time but even you have a bad temper when you’re pushed into the wrong mood. You like to pretend it doesn’t exist but everyone around you can tell when you’re set off like a hornet’s nest hidden in the grass.” He nudges your shoulder, “Just like now.”

“I’m just not talking to anyone right now. I don’t feel like it. I hate dealing with people and I want to be left alone. What in the fuck is wrong with that?”

“Nothing wrong with it. Sometimes we all want to be left alone, but if you’re left alone for too long, you forget what it’s like to be around other people. Dealing with other humans is the curse of civilization, I’m afraid.”

Jake’s large hand is on your back. There’s nothing sexual about the touch though; it’s comforting and something you’re more familiar with from when you were a kid and too scared to admit when something was bothering you, so you’d get worked up and agitated without explanation. Jake could just massage the troubles out of you like he would for any troubled, almost-feral animal.

You lay motionless before mumbling, “John’s going to be gone all summer.”

“Yes; going on tour all around New Jack. I saw it on his Trollbook.”

“Rose is thinking about breaking up with him because of it and hanging out with this… _guy_.”  

“Does he go to your school?”

“No way. He’s older than both you and Dirk’s ages combined from what she tells me. She says it’s just about a scholarship but I honestly think she’s looking for a rebound.”

“Rose has always had a…rather odd taste in men; and women from what I hear.”

You roll your eyes, “She only kissed Kanaya that one time because she was drunk. Afterwards, she was too embarrassed to really follow through on the whole thing. Even if Rose is bisexual or whatever, I doubt she’s really interested in Kanaya.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know…I…” You shrug, “…I think they’re too similar.”

“Too similar?”

“It’s hard to explain but…Rose and Kanaya are a lot alike but that’s good for a friendship. It’s not necessarily what you want in a matesprit or girlfriend or whatever they would be doing. And just ‘cause you’re really similar doesn’t mean you’re going to ‘mesh’ properly.” You shrug again, “I don’t know. I think even if they dated, it wouldn’t last long.”

“Nothing’s meant to last forever, Dave. Forever is much longer than anyone would ever live, even a troll with glacier-chilled blood. You’re already eighteen Dave and, well, I’m sorry but it’s a sad fact of life that people change. We grow up and grow apart. Things aren’t like how they are on TV. People don’t always stay close to people they’ve known since kindergarten.”  

“I’d rather be with people who’ve known me for a long time rather than be with some fucking strangers.”

“Just because you’ve known someone for a long time doesn’t mean you know them either. You could be drifting apart and not realize it.” Jake ruffles your hair, “Dave, you’re a young man full of promise.”

“Full of promise? Are you fucking kidding me with that, English?”

You grumble and roll over, looking up at Jake. The man reminds you more of a friendly bear that learned how to (barely) shave instead of a human being. “How in hell am I ‘full of promise’? I’m eighteen. I live in _fucking New Jack City._ I’m _broke_. The only ‘promise’ I’m full of is asking people if they’d like extra whipped cream on their double-mocha latte.”

“Now, Dave, none of that.” Jake says, sternly, “I had the world in the palm of my hand when I was your age; the heir to a fortune built in firearms and weaponry and I squandered it like any pauper would. You have potential, Dave. You have drive and if you push yourself, you know good things shall come of it. You must have the motivation to do it.”

“To do what exactly?”

Jake shrugs, “Rose is working toward a scholarship, so why not you? You’ve always had a passion for photography and the cinema. Despite what everyone says, you do have a poet’s soul whether you indulge it, ironically or not. Dave, there’s no future working in a menial industry all your life. You must work to carve your place into the woodwork of the world.”

“Do you just rattle off old Young British sayings or are you coming up with this stuff off the top of your head?” you mutter.

“You’re acting sarcastic and sullen so you must realize what I say is the honest truth,” Jake says, “Go to work. Go to school. Get a higher education and, for the love of the gods, get _the hell_ out of this city.”

You frown, “I’d rather not move to a strange island I’ve never been to before.”

“It beats getting cancer and having all your hair fall out from drinking the water here.”

You rub your face muttering, “Things would be better if we all hung out more…”

Jake sighs. You feel a heavy hand on your shoulder. “Dave…you can always say something will last forever. You can _always_ plan a pretty picnic, but you _can’t_ predict the weather.”

You frown, “Did you just try to rhyme ‘weather’ with ‘forever’?”

“Does that displease the King of Ill Beats?” Jake chuckles.

“At least you have the interest enough to try, no matter how miserable it may be.” you concede with a small laugh.

Jake chuckles and stands up. “At least I got you to smile the tiniest bit. Come on now. Its dinnertime and Dirk doesn’t like you cooped up in your room.”

“Are we going to have to watch troll anime?”

“But of course! Its Dirk isn’t it?” Jake laughs and walks to the door.

You sit up, “Jake, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, my shades wearing chum.”

“Do you ever think about going back to Young Britain?”

The blood and cheer immediately drain out of Jake’s face. “Wh-what…?” He coughs. “Dave, you know my story. You know what I did. Why…why would I ever…?”

“Well, maybe you want to see your old friends and family and what happened to them. Maybe Joan got sober too and she’s in the same situation as you. Or maybe your family’s looking for you—”

 _“No!”_ Jake says, sharply. He shakes his head rapidly, “I can never go back there. I…I made a promise to never go back to young Britain on the penalty of death.”

“Death? You mean from your government?”

Jake shakes his head again. You see beads of sweat on his face. You only _suggested_ that he visit his home and already Jake’s broken out into a cold sweat.

Jake licks his lips, “Uh. No. Not the government I uh, well. Troxie’s folks weren’t too fond of their daughter disappearing, no matter how questionable her lifestyle was, and Joan’s parents were no better in that regard.” He shakes his head, “I fear to think what happened to Joan. Those Cherubs are a wicked bunch, the brother and sister the worst and most decadent of all of them.”

“Are? I thought you said they disappeared?”

Jake nods, “I said they disappeared from their current hidey-hole, but disappearing means nothing in this day and age. To my family I am marked as legally dead and yet here I am.”

“But they disappeared right? They had a dead body of a company heiress in their place plus loads of drugs, so maybe they disbanded. They’ll probably lay low for a long time rather than have someone connect them to that.”

“Troxie’s body was never found. Believe me, I brought the blues to that land of opiates and shame and there was not painted green hide nor bleached white hair of those Cherubs.” Jake draws in a deep breath, concluding, “Evil does not simply disappear. It sleeps and awakens only when it feels the time is ripe.”

“You seem assured that you’re going to meet them again.”

Jake’s face hardens in a way you’ve never seen.

“Unfinished business.” is all he says as he walks out of the door.

You don’t question him on what that could mean. There are certain things even _you_ don’t want to know about Jake’s past. This was the man who used to break into rich people’s houses and make his living fencing priceless heirlooms for drugs. You don’t want to consider what else could be buried in his questionable past.

You follow him out of the bedroom for dinner. 


	3. things my father told me

**== >Dave: We don’t care about the humans. Let’s be Karkat again. **

 

You are Karkat again and you have retreated from your irritable matesprit to go across the street to your old home. The lights are off in the mobile hive so at least you don’t have to worry about avoiding Terezi. You still have your keys (Cronus insisted you keep them in case you ever get in trouble and can come back home straight away). You walk to the door and look around.

It feels odd coming back to your old mobilehive after moving out. You almost feel like a stranger. You glance at Nepeta’s mobilehive and see the lights are on but it’s silent. You know Gamzee and Nepeta are usually out and about these days but that’s no surprise. Its summer time and the only time you’re allowed to loiter without getting hassled.

You enter the mobilehive and realize that it’s not empty. Kankri is sitting on the couch, looking at a bottle he’s clutching in his hand. Even in the dark you can see him staring at it. Mesmerized.

You snort and kick the door shut, “I knew you couldn’t fucking resist it. What are you waiting for, old man? Why don’t you chug that shit down like its nectar from the gods above?”

Kankri doesn’t respond. He doesn’t look up at you. He is completely silent and that unsettles you more than any angry or violent answer you’ve received in the past. You don’t move from the door, just in case Kankri decides to fling that bottle at your head.

“Kankri…?”  you ask.

Kankri is focused on the bottle in his hands; rolling it over, thumb stroking the faded label, muttering over the Old Alternian script on it. This is no cheap booze but vintage with the coppery coloring of brandy. You can’t read the label but you recognize the violet-colored wavy sigil set in an embossed crest at the top of the label.

You’re pretty sure that bottle is worth more than anything you’ll ever be able to afford. You stand there in silence, looking at your father. He doesn’t acknowledge your presence until three minutes later. 

 

“Did you know,” remarks the older mutantblood, “that on Old Alternia even food was segregated by hemocaste? The food of lowbloods could only be consumed by lowbloods and any highblood that ate the food of lowbloods was most likely humoring a lowblood or was considered mildly eccentric. The food of lowbloods consisted of your basic animal offal with a high fat content and low nutritional value: brain, heart, liver, lungs, intestines and other ‘pluck’. But the food of highbloods? Oh, that was a rare delicacy indeed, luxurious and nutritious: sea horror caviar, tender crustaceans, mushrooms the size of your head, wild apes, raw seal, whale flesh pickled and grilled, and the most prized and taboo of all…lusus meat.”

Kankri holds up the bottle of ancient liquor. His red eyes are focused as he studies it, “For a lowblood to drink this—the liquor of seadwellers—the only fitting punishment is culling for a breach of social etiquette and rebellion.” 

Your father rests his chin on the bottle’s corked top, “There were many different forms of culling, you know. It wasn’t just a quick bash on the skull with a Subjuggulator’s club for forgetting your place in the hemocaste. No; different cullings for different slights. For drinking this wine, your tongue would be removed and you would be forced to drink a poison that would kill you slowly. Then you would be abandoned to the wilds and if the harshness of the sun did not finish you off, then the beasts would.”

“You’re being an annoying windbag again,” you say, “so you _must_ still be sober.” You fold your arms, “I’m surprised you can remember anything with all the holes in your brain.”   

“The holes are never permanent, Karkat. Sooner or later, they are filled up.” Kankri sits up and stares at you, “One by one, the memories trickle back.”

“Do you even remember the day I was hatched?”

Kankri stares a minute and then recalls, “I was violently sick and alone in the hygieneblock; retching into the load gaper. My father didn’t bother to help me. He cooed and petted over you while I was personally convinced I was dying…”

“And then?”

Kankri casts his eyes downward, “A blur and the events afterwards…lost to time and alcohol.” He looks back to the bottle, licking to his lips. “I slowly recall it; dripping into my mouth like rainwater down a funnel.”

You walk closer to your father, “The last thing Terezi would want is for you to drink.”

Kankri’s expression goes from neutral to a hatred you’ve never seen on his face before. “If I were trapped in the burning desert sands of New Egypt with scorpions crawling in my hair and poisoned snakes worming their way through my undergarments, I would not even consider for a _moment_ drinking from that wretched bottle.” Your father says, curtly.

“If you hate it so much, why keep it?”

“Memory.”

“Memory?”

Kankri presses his lips into a thin, angry line and says nothing.

You ask instead, “Where’s Terezi?”

“Doctor’s.” Kankri says.

“A doctor? Is she sick? She was sick at school. Is it infectious? Can you get her the meds or—”

Kankri shakes her head, “Nothing you can do about it, Karkat. Nothing to be _done_ actually. Just awaiting the results of…things.”

“So,” you say, “you’re just sitting here in the dark staring at a bottle of wine older than that you are?”

“Not wine. Brandy.” Kankri shuts his eyes, “Drunk straight from the bottle when it should be sipped with ice, not gulped like beer. A high proof that is hot on the tongue and feels like fire in the mouth and belly.” He swallows and looks at the bottle, “Fire that consumes and singes anyone who embraces it.”

You walk over to Kankri and gently take the bottle from his hand. “Yeah. I’m just going to… _take_ _this_ from you.” Kankri isn’t even gripping the bottle very hard. He stares into space. You’ve never seen him this way; just completely shut down. Its making you skittish and craving noise to combat the eerie silence in the room. You look at the bottle, “Is this…the same bottle you drank when you, uh, when you and Mom had, er, _conceived_ Eridan?”

“Congratulations, Karkat; you have the same talent for mystery solving as Terezi.”

“Did you…hate yourself for that? For what you did to Mom?”

“My life is one built on a foundation of lies, supported by the physics of my own personal comfort.”

“Are you always this poetic when you’re…like… _this_?”

“Depressed? Yes, when I cannot drink I wax poetic to distract my darker thoughts. I spent the previous hour writing an analysis about the highblood belief in Mirthalla.”

“Mirthalla?”

Kankri nods and folds his hands, resting his chin on his fingers. “Mirthalla, The Hall of the Slain and Mirthful. A majestic, enormous land; where every piece of ground is solid gold and even the rainfalls controlled by colossal, elaborate clockwork; ruled by the Consort of Causality, or perhaps her other name is more appropriate here: The Golden Bitch. Why do you think she is often portrayed alongside the Angel of Double Death as a demon goddess made of pure gold? She is Mirthalla and Mirthalla is her. Those who die in mirth or violence are welcomed in her halls, to spend their days in her unending Dark Carnival.”

You swallow, “I think I should call Mom. I don’t think…you’re doing okay.”

“I’m not clawing your face off for a drink so I must be in better condition than I have been previously, Karkat.” Kankri replies, “Why are you here? You stink of pheromones and it’s not a favorable idea to be around an elder troll in such a condition.”

You stare at him, “Meaning what…?”

Kankri looks up at you, “Meaning that I could easily jump you and not think much of it; after all, instincts dictate that if you’re young, approaching me while on your fertility cycle, that means you must want to mate with me.”

You shuffle away from him, holding the ancient brandy. “I…don’t want to mate with you. I have a matesprit and I…really _don’t_. You’re just not attractive.”

Kankri tilts his head, “Why should I care about that? I could count the amount of times I actually consented or didn’t regret what I did on one hand. After all, Dualscar didn’t care.”

“…what?”

“As I said before, my memory is healing itself and I am remembering things, mainly the traumas visited upon my mind and body before the positive things. _If_ there are any positive things to be had. I remember the lies Cronus told to ease my troubles, to keep me off the brink of suicidal shame.”

“But…but that’s ridiculous, Kankri! You’re my father! Eridan’s my brother!”

“Eridan is your brother.” Kankri says, “Just not through Cronus.”

“What are you…?”

You stop and look at Kankri’s expressionless face. You think back to how Cronus always said Kankri went off the wagon completely after Eridan was laid. How Cronus despised Dualscar. How Kankri never went near Dualscar and to this very day refused to go near his trailer.

You stare at Kankri. “…Cronus isn’t Eridan’s mother…is he?”

Kankri doesn’t respond.

You ask, “Cronus isn’t Eridan’s parent at all…is he?”

Kankri looks to the couch. He picks up a notebook sitting next to him. “Turn on the light would you? I have a paper to finish contemplating before I commit it to type. I prefer writing out my rough drafts by pen before finishing them.”

“Kankri. _Dad._ ” you ask, “Is Eridan my brother?”

“He is.” Kankri shrugs. “Or he is not. It doesn’t matter now, does it, Karkat? You were raised as brothers so you may as well be brothers, genetic or otherwise.”

“Uh huh. Well. It was good talking to you. I guess.” you say.

Kankri locates his pen on the couch. “Karkat, I kindly request that you not lie to me. I have been heaping lies upon lies for my own comfort for years, some of which I am starting to uncover. I refuse to add more to my own pile of untruths, no matter how small.”

You nod, “Yeah. Sure.”

You get the hell out of there. You’ll find another way to get alcohol rather than dealing with Kankri and his odd mood.

You abruptly leave the mobilehive and walk across the street. All you have to show from your visit to your old home is a bottle of old brandy that you’re sure no one at the party is going to drink. You’d rather pool the cash to bribe someone to buy beer than deal with Kankri when he’s…like _this_.

You’re unsure of what mood Dave is in though. If it’s a bad one, you’ll spend the rest of the night on the couch, seeing if there’s anyone willing to talk with you on Trollichum.

You enter the Strider-English mobilehive. Dirk and Jake are snuggled on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and ignoring you as they watch Troll AKIRA. You quickly walk past them as Troll Kaneda screams out for Troll Tetsuo to cease his madness (with Jake in the background asking why everyone is shouting, why that troll is a psionic, why that troll is turning into a giant blob, or what the bloody hell is even going on).

You walk to Dave’s bedroom and see that the young hipster is lying on his stomach watching something on his husktop. You’re not sure about his mood though.

He notices you before you say anything though.

“Hey, Karkat.” he says.

“Hey.” you say. 

Dave looks at you. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. I’m guessing things didn’t go well with Kankri.”

“I…” You look at the bottle of near-ancient brandy, “…I don’t know.”

Dave pauses the movie he’s watching and slowly uncoils the blanket from around him. “Hey, don’t stand there looking like you just broke in here. Climb on over.”

You climb onto the bed and snuggle next to the human. You look at the husktop screen. Dave unpauses the screen and you watch an animated yellowblood troll walk around in a white nightie, surrounded by computer screens and wires.

“I didn’t know you watched troll anime. All I’ve seen you watch are cartoons old enough to be your great-grandfather.” you say.

“Well I hate the mainstream ‘buy our toys already you little shits’ stuff you watch but I found some avante-garde underground ones poking about on Trollumblr.” Dave says.

“What’s this one called?”

“Serial Experiments Solain.” Strider says, “It was made by some troll called Chiaki Konaka who does a lot of underground stuff. I found him while looking up stuff about Digispawn. Apparently he did one of the episodes on season two and wrote all of season three.”

“I never got as far as season three. I was irritated about the end of season two and stopped watching the show altogether.” you say, watching the screen. “What’s this anime about?”

“It’s about a yellowblood troll named Solain Iwakua who lives in suburban New Tokyo and there’s some weirdness going on with her and the Wired, which is sort of like the Internet. Then she gets an e-mail from a girl at her school who committed suicide and things get even more weird. It’s pretty cool. I’m watching Troll Ghost Hound next.”

“Sounds as obnoxious as you are.” you say.

Strider kisses you, smirking, “Like your taste in troll anime is any better.”

You smirk and kiss him back, “At least I watch anime that makes _sense_ instead of pseudo-philosophical metaphysical bullshit you seem to love indulging in.”

“I indulge in it to irritate you.”

“Hey! You nipped my ear. I thought I was on sex-probation since you started ‘chafing’.”

“You still are. It doesn’t mean I can’t tease you.” Strider wraps an arm around your waist, “What were you going over to Kankri’s for anyways?”

“I wanted to see if I could bum some beer off of him but I think it’s all gone plus he was in a…really weird mood.” you say. “Now all I have is this old brandy.”

“What do you need beer for? You going to Vriska’s party?”

You nod, “Yeah. I need to go to talk to Terezi.”

“I thought you and Terezi would do that whole pitch thing since she seems to hate you.”

“No, she hates me platonically.”

“There’s a difference between platonic hatred and pitch?”

“A difference so huge that your blonde human brain could not comprehend it.”

Strider kisses you again—biting your lip, slipping his tongue past your lips. You feel him pull you closer to his warm body, “I’m not blonde; I’m a mutant.”

“Your hair’s white so you’re blonde, end of fucking story.” you mutter through the kiss.

“Alright. If I’m blonde, you’re a fatass.”

“I am not a fatass! I’m just a little bit chubby!”

“ _This_ ” Strider pinches your side “is not just a few pounds overweight.”

“Shut up, you shades wearing hipster asshole.”

“Make me, fatass.” 

You’re too tired to really wrestle with him. He closes the husktop and makes room for the two of you on the bed. You kiss him again and tell him in a low whisper how stupid his shades look on his face and that being a hipster in this age is outdated. Strider whispers back about how much he hates My Big Fat Subjuggulator Wedding and finds the love interest to be dull, as they usually are in most troll romantic comedies (according to him).

“Fuck me.” you pant.

“No.”

“Why the fuck _not_?” you snarl.

Strider slides down your boxers and kisses your inner thigh, “Because you’re a horny fuck and I’m still sore from you constantly trying to ride me.”

“I wanna fuck something.”

“ _Seriously_.” Strider snickers, “How is this planet not _swarming_ with fucking trolls since you’re so eager to stick your bulge into something?”  

“Shut up! What are you doing down there?”

“If you’re too dense to figure it out, maybe I shouldn’t tell you.”

You squint but you can’t see Strider over your bulge (which has started wiggling about with the promise of getting action).

“You better tell me what you’re doing down there, Strider, or so help _meeee_!”

You voice goes into near falsetto when you feel a warm, wet tongue pry its way into your nook.

Strider laughs, “Never heard you reach that pitch before. You should’ve tried out for chorus, Karkat.”

“F-fuck you!” you pant, flushed, “You know the choir teacher is a xenophobic bitch and— _ahhhh gods!_ ” You whimper when you feel that wet tongue plunge inside you a second time. Dave laughs and, fuck, you feel his vibrating laughter in the muscles of your nook. The sensation’s maddening.

“S-shut up…” you growl, “Shut up and just _ahhh_ …”

“Just what?” Dave says, vibrating into your nook, “Just keep giving you head since you love it so fucking much, Vantas?”

 

“You never shut up…e-even during _thiisss…_ ”

Three more licks before Dave adds, “Holy shit…why in the hell do your fluids taste like…cherry?” He laughs, “How in the hell does troll jizz taste like fucking _cherries_?”

“Don’t laugh into my _nook_ , you horseroni’s ass!”

“Why not?”

“It…it feels _weird_ is why!” 

“Oh, you mean it feels _good._ ” He angles your hips upward, finger pressed into your thighs. “Then prepare, because I’m going all the way in here.”

“You really can’t learn to shut up can _yoooooou! Fuck! Don’t do that!_ ”

Strider laughs and murmurs something while he has a mouthful of your nook. You’d sputter more insults if Strider wasn’t fully intent on giving your nook a tongue bath. You try to growl and snarl at him through it but in thirty minutes’ time you’ve broken down to pathetic whimpering and begging him for him to keep going.

When you climax, you collapse on the bed—feeling like all your bones have melted at once. Strider has a strawberry colored sticky smeared on his chin and lips. He wipes at his mouth and murmurs, “Holy fuck…I nearly _drowned_ in your cum.”  

“Sh…shu… _gods_ …” You’re too tired to even tell Strider to fuck off.

“No wonder your ancestors used buckets. How do you store up so much fluid?”

“M-more…” is the word you manage to force out.

“More? Fuck, Karkat, I’m only one dude.” Strider yawns and lies next to you, “There’s no way in fuck I can keep screwing you every night. Humans aren’t built for that kind of nonstop fuckery.”

“S-so what…? I’m still…feels like I’m burning up…” you grunt, agitated.

“Why don’t you have sex with someone else then?”

You raise an eyebrow, “I thought humans weren’t okay with their boyfriends or girlfriends not fucking anybody else.”

Dave rolls onto his side, “Well, yeah. Normal humans are not cool with that but you’re not a human. You’re a troll. You have all your anal-retentive quadrants for a reason and I guess this is one of the reasons.”

“Are you saying…?”

Strider smirks, “Karkat Vantas, will you do me the honor of screwing _someone else_ until your troll-PMS calms the fuck down?”

“I do not have Troll PMS! That doesn’t even fucking exist, you colossal douchebag.”  

“This douchebag who just made you orgasm like a two boon whore.”

“Oh my gods. You _never_ shut up.” You grumble and pull the blanket over you.

“You’re still blushing…”

“Shut up!”

“Love you too, chubmuffin.”

“I have enough nicknames thanks to you.”

You grunt and snuggle closer to him. Strider might have said something but you drift off to sleep, exhaustion finally overtaking you. 


	4. parting words

It feels like you’re floating. The visions have become burdensome now, voices of the long dead and decomposed whispering into your auricular sponge clots. Telling you that this is the day you die. That this is the day you stop being a troll and become an infamous creature. The day you become a symbol. A shadow. Immortal and unable to be destroyed.  

You are no longer Karkat. You are your grandfather and you are facing execution.

You’ve been ripped out of modern times and brought to the ancient days, to the days of brutal Old Alternia.

This isn’t just any lowblood-out-of-line culling that is quick and relatively painless. This is torment that goes on day in day out—time stretching into a blur of aches and blisters. You feel the ache in your shoulders and the pain in your cuffed wrists. Your eyes are dried out from the unbearable heat. It’s become a constant ritual for you. Strung up at dusk to be mocked while your every copy of written teachings are burned and desecrated before you and your followers. Untied at dawn to survive tomorrow night’s torments.  

You squint and feel your vascular pump ache. There is your…well, she is not your matesprit because you feel hatred. She is not your kismesis because you feel pity. Your quadrant is chaos personified and how trolls should naturally be. She is your one and only and shall always be that to you. You found her in the wilderness, tamed her, taught her language and preached your ideals.

Your beautiful Disciple.

 

Your chained and filthy Disciple, sitting in the rough grass and staring at you with forlorn eyes.  Her anguish bladders must be as dry as yours are from the light season humidity. She has no more dismay fluid to give. Next to her is your mother, who will not look at anyone now. She’s been silent throughout this ordeal, refusing to spare these highbloods not a drop of dismay fluid. She’s a rebellious woman; a hard woman who raised you in the wilderness and taught you how to slay wild beasts to survive. She wears the heavy collar of slavery with silent dignity. You know her presence makes the superstitious highbloods uneasy.

There are other lowbloods here. Your slow culling has built up quite the reputation and with it came the travelling entertainers with their prestidigitation and other showy miracles; bored peasant onlookers and those looking to get in good with highbloods who have set up temporary hives and tents. Most likely they’ve been displaced from the latest landslide or gigantic tidal wave and looking to make some money.

They’ve turned your seemingly-unending misery into a jolly fair. 

Men in tall hats sell ballots and bets to see how long it will take you to shrivel up. Women sell roasted centipedes and rotted fruit to throw at you while you’re strung up. You see the rustblood haruspex is watching you closely. She’s been visiting more often. You have no idea what she’s planning; probably basing some fantastical show. You recognize the brownblood meowbeast-tamer from his hunched shuffling about the grounds. He keeps his sly eyes on Mindfang, that ceruleanblood who only came to this ‘fair’ to appease the highbloods who would have otherwise culled her for her piracy. She holds the chain that keeps your mother and your Disciple in place. You know very well that Mindfang’s profitable slave trade is the only reason the seadwellers tolerates her high-sea shenanigans.   

Besides her is Executor Darkleer, the torturer who has orchestrated not only your slow demise but the death of thousands of other lowbloods. He seems more idstracted lately. You’ve been tortured long enough and by enough trolls to realize the difference between someone who tortures with zeal and someone who tortures because it’s their job.

The other highbloods prefer to be clustered together, sectioned off from the other ‘riffraff’. There are the bored Subjuggulators, who are only there to prevent your followers from fleeing, looking away, or even culling themselves to spare the sight of your eventual death. They stand outside of a luxurious tent reserved for the highbloods at their leisure to combat the humidity. Neophyte Redglare, who runs the corrupt courts and hangs those who would not deserve it, stands outside with her cane. She seems to speaking to Orphaner Dualscar, who kills only lowbloods to feed to The Rift Carbunkle. What they talk about, you can’t hear over the sound of fair music or merchants shouting their wares.

You see the Grand Highblood inside the tent, the general of the Subjuggulators who’s thousands of crimes are too numerous to name. He looks incredibly bored and…distracted. And now leaving the tent is Her Imperious Condescension; the only troll you could possibly hate more than the Grand Highblood.

The tyrianblood approaches you and stepping closely in her shadow is your moirail. That bitch; she’s chained him to her by the mouth—splitting his tongue to place a piercing there. You wince. It’s just like the highbloods to mutilate their ‘property’; making them ‘theirs’ for as long as their lifespan lasts.

Your moirail’s mutated eyes are in a fog from the tiara on his head. It’s a favored toy of the Condesce’s as it can control and mold the strongest minds. Most likely, he doesn’t even recognize you in his psionically-dampened state.    

This is routine. You speak to the Condesce in hateful whispers. The Psionic doesn’t notice in his hopeless daze.  

“Today’s the day you _die_ , rebel.”

Her breath is seasalt and ice on your face. She’s dressed in her finest for your execution, or what a seadweller would consider to be their finest. You honestly find them a gaudy bunch—all heavy gold and polished jewels, skin-tight waterproof clothes and carefully brushed hair.

“How many lowbloods had to _die_ to harvest your sapphires?” you spit at her, unimpressed with her luxuries, “How many rustbloods did you drown to get your pearls? You selfish creatures; you have the gills to get your own treasures and yet you force my kith to do the labor that would be so _easy_ for you!”

The Condesce bats her long lashes at you, “But then we wouldn’t be no highbloods, crabby. We’d be like y’all; slavin’ away like our lifespans don’t even matter much.”  

“I _loathe_ the way you speak, _seawitch_.” you hiss, “All the power in the Empire and none of the fucking _class!_ ”

“Spit, hiss, an’ curse all you wanna, _Signless_.” she says your holy title with a playful sneer, “It ain’t gonna save yo’ hide. Life’s nearly been drained out yo’ an’ yet yo’ still kickin’.” She smiles wider, “Any last predictions o’ yours ‘fore yo’ jus’ ‘nother mark in the history books for a buncha wigglers?”

“Yes…”

You lick your cracked and bleeding lips, groping in the darkness of your mind as you reach for your vision. The vision that has been plaguing you since you were chained up here and left exposed to the elements.

You know today is the day you would be exposed to the sun at last and, hopefully, the sun would finish the job.

You recite your latest vision; from the blurred times where you are neither awake nor dreaming; seeing the dancing and smiling demons of Hell as they parade through the streets of Alternia in their finest—heading toward a marvelous feast.

“Hemotype will rise against hemotype, and empire against empire. There will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. These are but the beginning of the egg-laying pains…and at that hour, there was a great earthquake, and a tenth of the city fell. Seven thousand trolls were killed in the earthquake, and the rest were terrified and gave glory to the gods above and below…”

The Condesce frowns, “Nothin’ new to yo’ brain I see. Must completely be tried by now.”

You gasp, straining to raise your voice over the noise despite your exhaustion.

“For I have lived two thousand and one lives and died two thousand and one deaths but this time shall be different…! This time I shall not be severed by the archer. This time, the gods hear my pleas and welcome me with open arms, for my destiny is no longer foreordained due to the meddling of demons and _accursed_ _witches_ …!”

Your proclamations are interrupted by coughing from your parched throat. You’ve attracted a crowd of not only curious lowbloods but highbloods as well. You see the haruspex’s eyes are wide with fear. You cough more and taste the tang of your own blood. 

“Stop it.” the Condesce orders.

You spit out your mutant blood.

“I shall not stop!” you hiss, “I shall never stop! Out of all these thousands of lives, I will _never_ stop until…until I shall have what I want. What everyone here wants! As long as there is your injustice, I shall always be here to combat it! _Always!_ ”

“How very… _dedicated_ o’ yo’.” The Condesce turns her head to the crowd of highbloods, _“Darkleer!_ ”

The blueblood looks away from your followers (what was he doing looking over there anyways…?) and stands at attention, shoulders squared.

“Yes, my Tyrannical Queen?” asks Darkleer.

The Condesce points to you, “I’ve had it up to my stem with this fuck’s constant talkin’. Shoot ‘em an’ be done with it.”

“Shoot him?” You hear the hesitation in his voice. You see your Disciple quiver, grind her fangs, but she doesn’t look away.

“Did I _fuckin’ stutter_ , Darkleer?” the Condesce shrieks, “Y’gotta bow for a fuckin’ reason! _Use it before you’re strung up next to him, you blueblood fuckwit!_ ”

Darkleer nods and withdraws his bow. “I apologize, your Imperiousness. I don’t know what came over me. It must be the pre-dawn heat.”

“Just do it!” the Condesce tugs on the chain that binds the Psionic to her, “Come along, Helmsman.”

The Psionic limps after her as the Condesce returns to her tent. The Grand Highblood comes out of the tent and you see him smirk. Darkleer takes aim with his bow. You see every muscle in your mother’s body tighten, even though she is looking away. Your Discple still has her eyes on you. You look at her.

You mouth ‘I love in every quadrant like a desperate fool’.

You see Darkleer prepare the arrow. You know how this will end, as its ended thousand and one times before. The arrow will fly through the air and pierce your side. You will bleed out quickly and that will be the end. Your followers will despair before the Grand Highblood orders the final slaughter and enslavement. Your mother will withdraw into a shell of hatred and bitterness toward all highbloods. The highbloods will be too superstitious to kill her and auction her off to the highest bidder; a Rainbowdrinker is rare after all and fearsome. Your Disciple will take your leggings and continue to preach your words of hemospectrum homogeny and peace in the deep wilderness.

You hold your breath and wait for the quick end.

The ground trembles. The arrow strays from its path to your side and strikes a tree instead.

“What…what in the…” the Condesce stammers.

The ground quakes again. You hear the air fill with screams as tents collapse. Hoofbeasts and meowbeasts roar in terror, running off or trying to escape from their chains. The ground under you cracks and you hear the hiss of gas venting from deep in the earth.  

“What in the hell is going on?” asks Dualscar.

The Condesce is trembling and holding her culling fork close to her body, “S-somethin’s wrong…it’s all wrong!”

You can barely hear her tittering little voice over the sound of panicked voices. The ground shakes again, more fissures erupting in the ground. You squint and although your vision may be bad, you can see a look in her tyrianblood eyes you’ve never seen before: raw, unfiltered _terror_.

“It’s Gl’bgolyb…s-something is…scaring her. _This_ is scaring her…”

That is the last thing you hear before the ground cracks open under you. The steel obelisk you are chained to tips to the side and you go down with it.

You hear the Disciple scream your name as you plunge down into the earth. 

* * *

You sit up, covered in a cold sweat. Strider murmurs in his sleep and rolls onto his back. You take a deep breath and climb out of bed, taking another deep breath.

You walk to the bathroom and splash cold water on your face. You look at your wrists. They’re not burned. You’re not a map of scars and cuts from Darkleer’s tortures and your nerves aren’t fried from the Condesce’s verbal taunts. Patches of your skin isn’t flaking off from having been exposed to the blistering Alternian sun.

You are Karkat Vantas. You were born and live in New Jack City, a peninsula hanging off the large continent known simply as the Mainland. You are not your grandfather, Vantas Senior. You are not the Signless.

You are Karkat Vantas.

You are not the Signless.

You are _Karkat Vantas_.

You whisper the words over and over again in a calming mantra. You strip off your clothes and take a quick, cold bath. It’s not even morning yet and it has to be ninety degrees inside of the mobilehive. You leave the bathroom and return to Strider’s bedroom. Strider is still asleep, having kicked off the blankets because of the heat.

You’re too frightened to sleep anymore. You grab your iHusk and go to the living room. Dirk and Jake must have already dragged themselves off to bed. You lie on the couch and preoccupy yourself. Maybe you’ll see if there’s any updates on Trollbook or if anyone is online on Trollichum.

Eridan is online but you’re not going to talk to that little shit, especially about whatever he’s doing. Terezi blocked you the moment you tried to talk to her. You need to talk to someone who’ll actually listen and just not wait to say something.

You sigh and send a message.

 

 --carcinoGeneticist began trolling grimAuxilatrix!—

 

CG: KANAYA.

CG: YOU THERE? KANAYA?

GA: Karkat Its Two In The Morning

GA: Why Are You Still Awake And Messaging Me

CG: WHY ARE YOU STILL AWAKE?

CG: DON’T YOU HAVE EXAMS TOMORROW?

GA: I Have to Turn In A Take Home Test For Statistics Which I Completed Earlier Today

GA: I Am Sewing Right Now

CG: WHY IN THE FUCK DID YOU EVEN TAKE STATISTICS? I THOUGHT YOU DOUBLED UP ON MATH SO YOU WOULDN’T HAVE TO BE BOTHERED WITH ANY OF THIS SHIT IN SENIOR YEAR.

GA: Statistics And Economics Are Very Important For Someone Who Wishes To Become Self Employed And Run Their Own Business In The Future

GA: Math Is Not A Burdensome Subject To Me After All I Use It In My Sewing Craft Very Often

CG: DO YOU USE IT IN YOUR COOKING AS WELL WHEN YOU MAKE SURE DINNER’S ON THE TABLE FOR YOUR MATESPRIT, LITTLE MISS SUBURBAN HOUSETROLL?

GA: Karkat You Seem More Aggressive And Confrontational Than Usual And I Severely Doubt You Messaged Me Wanting To Know About My Preference In Educational Building Subjects

GA: What Is Bothering You Karkat?

GA: I Have Even Employed The Use Of Your Grammatical Question Noodle That You Are Fond Of

CG: QUESTION NOODLE? WHY DO YOU EVEN CALL IT THAT? YOU TALK LIKE YOU’RE A THOUSAND YEARS OLD SOMETIMES, KANAYA. YOU KNOW THAT?

GA: It Has Been Mentioned To Me Before

GA: I Prefer Talking And Typing This Way Though

CG: WHY?

GA: It Reminds Me Of My Grandmother And This Way Of Writing And Talking Keeps Her Memory Alive

CG: OH.

CG: SORRY.

GA: Im Not Offended Karkat Obviously Something Is Bothering You

CG: …KANAYA…

CG: …DO YOU EVER HAVE…DREAMS?

GA: Yes Karkat I Would Assume All Of Us Have Dreams Karkat

CG: NO, I MEAN…

CG: DREAMS ABOUT…THE PAST, ABOUT ALTERNIA AND THINGS LIKE THAT.

CG: LIKE…I KEEP HAVING DREAMS ABOUT MY GRANDFATHER.

GA: Yes I Dream About My Grandmother Too

GA: Death Does That To You When All You Have Left Are Memories Of A Person

CG: NO! IT’S NOT LIKE THAT!

CG: I HAVE DREAMS WHERE I’M HIM. I’M NOT SEEING HIM DOING STUFF, I’M HIM. I’M IN HIS SKIN. I FEEL HIS…HIS EMOTIONS AND HIS PAIN. HIS THOUGHTS AND HIS FEELINGS ARE MY THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS. 

CG: I WAS THERE, KANAYA. I WAS THERE ON OLD ALTERNIA. I WAS GETTING READY TO BE CULLED AND THEN…

GA: And Then What

CG: THE GROUND…THERE WAS AN EARTHQUAKE. DARKLEER COULDN’T SHOOT ME BECAUSE OF THE EARTHQUAKE. HIS ARROW MISSED HITTING ME BECAUSE OF THE EARTH QUAKE…

CG: AND EVERYONE WAS THERE. THE SUMMONER, THE HANDMAID, YOUR GRANDMOTHER, NEPETA’S GRANDMOTHER…*EVERYONE*.

GA: Thats Odd Considering Most Historians Say The Summoner And The Signless Lived At Different Points In Time On Old Alternian History What With The Difference In Lifespan And All

GA: Of Course Theological Historians Also Say The Dolorosa Was A Rainbowdrinker Thus Why Her Giving Divine Birth To The Signless Was Considered A Miracle When In Reality The Myths Of Rainbowdrinkers Were Caused By Seeing Jadebloods Under Ultraviolet Light

CG: I KNOW THAT, KANAYA. YOU SHINED LIKE A GLOWSTICK AT VRISKA’S THIRTEENTH WRIGGLING DAY WHEN WE WENT TO GO PLAY LASERTAG.

CG: BUT THIS IS DIFFERENT. I WAS THERE ON ALTERNIA. I COULD EVEN FEEL THE HEAT ON MY SKIN. 

GA: Have You Ever Considered That Your Mental State Is Being Aggravated By Your Fertility Cycle

CG: YOU MEAN THE FUCKING CYCLE THAT SHOULD HAVE ENDED DAYS AGO?

GA: Karkat Why Did You Never Pay Attention In Health Class

GA: You Cannot End Your Fertility Cycle Having An Interspecies Relationship

GA: You Are Confusing Your Body By Letting It Absorb Alien Genetic Materials That It Cannot Do Anything With So It Goes Back Into A Cycle Thinking Something Is Wrong Or That Your Partner Is Impotent

GA: By Having Intercourse With Strider You Are Resetting Your Cycle

CG: MY FERTILITY CYCLE HAS NOTHING TO FUCKING DO WITH THIS!

CG: I’M HAVING VISIONS, KANAYA. THIS IS SOME SERIOUSLY WEIRD SHIT GOING ON. NOT ABOUT MY BODY WANTING TO PUMP A GRUB INTO SOMEONE OR VICE-VERSA. THIS IS THE SAME SHIT MY GRANDFATHER WENT THROUGH.

CG:…YOU DO BELIEVE MY GRANDFATHER WAS THE REAL SIGNLESS, DON’T YOU?

GA: Lets Just Say I Am Open Minded To A Difference Of Opinion When There Is Evidence Presented To Me To Combat The Status Quo

GA: Unlike Feferi I Am Not Willing To Believe That Our Grandcestors Survived The Destruction Of Old Alternia Due To The Meddling Of Certain Deities Whether Holy Or Malicious

CG: SO YOU’RE NOT SURE?

GA: I Think Thats The Closest To My Personal Opinion Right Now

GA: The Amulet Your Grandfather Gave You Is Strong Evidence That He May Have Been The Real Thing But Anymore Evidence Of His True Identity Would Most Likely Be Found At Darkleer Manor

CG: DARKLEER MANOR? UGH, NOT THAT PLACE…

GA: Yes Its Quite Unpleasant But That Is Where Any Evidence Would Be

GA: And In Regards To Dreams No Karkat I Do Not Have Visions Like That Where I Am My Own Grandmother Though I Do Feel Burdened By Other Things

GA: Perhaps It Is Something Indicative To Our Hemocastes Or Maybe It Is Because Of The Psionics In My Lineage

CG: SO YOU HAVE WEIRD DREAMS TOO?

GA: No But My Senses Are Heightened Concerning Certain Things Mostly Blood And Carnage

CG: BECAUSE OF THE PURPLEBLOOOD IN YOU?

GA: Actually The Highblood Hemocaste Is More Indigo Than It Is Purple Which Would Be Closer To Eridans Hemocaste In My Opinion

CG: OH FUCK NO. I AM NOT GETTING INTO A FUCKING COLOR FIGHT AT TWO IN THE MORNING. I’M NOT EQUIUS’S DAD.

GA: It Is A More Accurate Description Of The Color If You Ask Me But Then Again I Work With Fabrics So I Would Be More Knowledgeable Of Colors And Shades Than Most Trolls

GA: My Hemocaste Is More Aware Of Blood And Carnage Most Likely Because Our Instincts Were To Be Protectors Of The Young And The Mother Grub After All A Good Medical Servant Should Be Able To Detect Injury Or Sickness Especially With Trolls Who Are Most Often Unwilling To Admit When Hurt

GA: Concerning Your Dreams Or Visions Karkat Perhaps You Should Seek More Information About Your Hemocaste

CG: THE INFORMATION ABOUT MY HEMOCASTE IS PRETTY FUCKING SHITTY, KANAYA. IT’S ALMOST AS BAD AS THE PROPAGANGA THEY SAY ABOUT JADEBLOODS BEING “BORN NURTURURERS” FOR GRUBS. THAT’S THE OLD IDEA I GUESS: MUTANTBLOODS HAVE NO FUCKING VALUE BEING MUTANTS OF AN EXTINCT BLOODTYPE SO WE MIGHT AS WELL BE GENETIC FLUID CANISTERS. JADEBLOODS HAVE NO VALUE SINCE THERE’S NO MOTHER GRUB SO THEY MIGHT AS WELL BE UNIVERSAL GRUBSITTERS. THAT’S WHAT THOSE SUBURBAN COLDBLOOD FUCKWITS WANT.

CG: UH, NO OFFENSE.

GA: None Taken

GA: My Mother Rants Very Often About How Jadebloods Are Viewed In Modern Society Now That Our Species Is In A Post Mother Grub Post Imperial Democratic Republic Or At Least Thats How It Is In The United Towns Of Canzia

CG: I FUCKING HATE THIS CITY AND EVERYTHING IN IT.

CG: IF I HAD MY WISH, I’D MOVE AS FAR AWAY AS I COULD.

GA: And Go Where Exactly

CG: ANYWHERE. THIS PLACE IS A DUMP.

GA: Not All Of New Jack City Is Terrible

GA: Our Neighborhood Is Only In An Unfavorable Condition And Things Are Frightening Now Especially With All The Violence On the Street

CG: LIKE THAT BUILDING THAT BURNED UP ON EISNER AVENUE OR THOSE OTHER BUILDINGS NEAR EAST WAY THAT GOT BURNED OUT.

GA: The Police Said It Was Caused By A Spark Due To The Summer Heat

GA: This City Is Very Much Like A Tinderbox Once Summer Comes Along

CG: BULLSHIT. IF THE FIRES WERE ON ACCIDENT WE WOULD HAVE GOTTEN BRUSHFIRES OR SOMETHING NEAR THE ABANDONED PLAYGROUND OR VACANT LOTS FROM ALL THE OVERGROWN WEEDS AND SHIT. SOMEONE IS BURNING THOSE PLACES DOWN ON PURPOSE AND THE POLICE ARE IN ON IT. WHAT ELSE IS NEW? YOU’D HAVE A HARDER TIME FINDING COPS WHO *AREN’T* CORRUPT IN THIS CITY. EVERY COLDBLOOD WHO LIVES IN THE SUBURBS IS A CROOK OR IS DOING SOMETHING ILLEGAL.

GA: Karkat Thats A Stereotype

GA: Not Every Coldblood Who Is Off Well Is Engaging In Criminal Activity

CG: I’M JUST SAYING IT’D ODD THAT VERY FEW PURPLES OUR AGE CAN’T FIND BASIC ENTRY-LEVEL JOBS AND THESE OTHERS GUYS ARE ROLLING IN MORE BOONS THAN I’LL EVER EARN.

GA: Karkat Were Getting Off The Subject Of Your Troublesome Dreams And Into Another One Concerning Our City And Its Social Problems

CG: YEAH, I KNOW.

CG: IT JUST FUCKING BUGS ME HOW FUCKED UP THIS CITY IS SOMETIMES. AND AT LEAST THE CITY BEING FUCKED UP IS SOMETHING I CAN WRAP MY HEAD AROUND. I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO ABOUT THESE FUCKING DREAMS.

GA: Are They Disturbing Your Sleep Pattern

CG: SORT OF.

GA: Perhaps You Should Consider A Sleep Aid Like Soporific Tablets

GA: They Prevent Troublesome Visions In The Night

CG: I DON’T KNOW. I GUESS I COULD TRY THAT BUT DOSING TOO HIGH ON SOPOR GIVES ME THE WORST SORT OF HEADACHE.

GA: It May Be Necessary Though

CG: WOULDN’T HURT TO TRY.

CG: THANKS, KANAYA.

GA: It Is No Problem Karkat

CG: ARE YOU GOING TO THE PARTY TOMORROW NIGHT?

GA: No I Am Going To Spend The Evening With Aradia And Feferi Since They Are Unable To Go

CG: BECAUSE OF THE ALCOHOL?

GA: Because Of The Noise As Well

GA: Aradia Needs To Learn That Her Body Wants To Rest And Feferi Needs Constant Watching With Her Fits

GA: Vriska Told Me You Were Uninvited Though

CG: I FINAGLED MY WAY IN USING THE VANTAS CHARM.

GA: You Bribed Her

CG: YES. BRIBING IS TECHNICALLY A PART OF THE VANTAS CHARM THOUGH.

GA: I Suppose It Is

GA: It Is Getting Late Though You Should Sleep Karkat

CG: YEAH. I THIK I’LL TRY TO GO TO SLEEP. 

GA: Take Care Karkat

\--carcinoGeneticist has ceased trolling!—

 

You get off the couch and retreat to the bedroom. You just hope you’re too tired to have anymore freaky dreams. 


	5. love and a case of four loko

“This is stupid.”

“It is not.”

“This is incredibly moronic and I don’t even fucking know why you talked me into this you fucking suck so much, Strider.”

“Because you said you needed beer for the party, which I said I would buy, under the condition that you do this.”

“This is fucking stupid! I’d rather _pay_ for the beer than look…well…”

Strider grins, “Ironically handsome?”

 _“Stupid!_ ”

You jump out of the hovertruck and glance over your shoulder, hoping no one recognizes you. Dave has talked you into wearing a faded pink sweater, maroon leggings, his old Concord sneakers with baggy socks. Dave is wearing an orange hoodie with dark red pants.

You look and feel like a hipster tool.

“I can’t believe you made me dress up like this. Why am I wearing a sweater? It’s like ninety degrees out!”

Strider climbs out of the hovertruck and smirks at you, “It’s pretty worn down though. You’d be warmer wearing a silk nightie or short shorts.”

“Where are you even getting the money to buy this ridiculous shit? I’ve been wearing the same shoes since sophomore year.” you say.

Strider walks toward the massive liquor store, “I have a job of course. Where do you think I go every weekend?”

“The suburbs to hang out with all the other ironic douchebags?”

“I work at Starboons, smart ass.”

“Wait… _Starboons?_ You mean that place that serves the floofy coffee drinks for like seven bucks a pop? You work _there_?”

“Yeah, and I’ll be doing it fulltime now that it’s summer.”

“Why do you work there? Isn’t it against your hipster principles to work for ‘the man’ or whatever?”

“Okay, one: no it’s not because we all have to make money one way or another. Two: if I want a car by senior year, I have to earn money some way and I’m not into selling my body like some trolls.”

Dave walks through the sliding doors and into the liquor store, with you following. Fairmont Liquors is pretty upscale compared to your average hole-in-the-wall shops just offering watery beer. There’s whole sections dedicated to party drinks like martini and pina colada mixes, fruity drinks in twelve ounce glass bottles, to the expense tastes of vintage brandy, wines, and gin. You try not to look at the brandy, remembering your… _bizarre_ encounter with your father yesterday evening.

You frown, “What do you mean?”

Dave walks over to the mixed drinks section and eyes a six pack of already-mixed Strawberry Daiquiris. “So you’re telling me you haven’t pieced it together that Eridan hasn’t shown up at school in the past _week_ and is walking around Park Avenue early in the morning?”

You shrug, “So? Why should I care?”

Dave stares at you. “Karkat…only _whores_ and _addicts_ walk around Park Avenue at two in the morning. So either Eridan’s chasing the bee and just likes wearing make-up and skirts or he’s selling himself.” He looks at the six-packs, “Should we bother with the mixed drinks or just get a Pabst?”

You shake your head, “There’s no way Eridan would sell himself.”

“I’m just telling you what Aradia told me. She said she saw Eridan walking along Park Avenue disguised—unconvincingly—as just some girl in a short dress and a trenchcoat. Looked like he’d been roughed up too.”

“There’s no way he’d do that. Dualscar would flip the fuck out. Cronus would flip the fuck out. Eridan’s way too chickenshit to streetwalk.”

“Who are you trying to convince—me or you?”

You stare at Strider and then look away, “Just pick something out and let’s go already.”

“Don’t get huffy at me because your brother is a prostitute.”

“He’s _not_!” You frown, “Not that I even care what the pretentious little fishshit is up to. I don’t give a shit. Let’s just stop talking about it, alright?”

“What sort of alcohol does Vriska even want you to bring?”

“How should I know?”

“Have you _never_ been invited to a party?” Dave sighs, exasperated.

You shrug, “It wasn’t really on the top of my priority list.”

“Do you know how many people are _coming_ …?”

“Um,” you mutter, “I don’t know. I think she invited everyone except for Eridan. Aradia, Feferi, and Kanaya aren’t going. Sollux probably got an invite because he’s Terezi’s brother but I doubt he’ll go. Sollux was never really big on parties.”

You see Strider roll his eyes behind the shades and pick out two six packs of Strawberry Daiquiri and Pabst. He walks to the register, “You seriously have no idea what to even do at a party, do you?”

“I have some vague idea!”

“Any idea _not_ gleamed from a terrible romcom?”

You pause and then glare at the smirk on Dave’s face, “Oh, shut up. Let’s get out of here before these leggings ride anymore.”   

Strider tilts his head, “I’d say from how your ass is sticking out, it’s already too late for that.”

You feel the heat rush to your face as you pull down the pink sweater in the back, hoping to cover your glute. “Oh my gods! Could you _be_ a bigger pervert?”

“It’s not perverted to look at _my boyfriend’s_ ass.” Strider says as he forks over to the boons for the alcohol to the cashier.

“It’s perverted to _talk_ about it like that!”

“Karkat, your ass sticks out like it’s a small moon to the planet that is the rest of your body. I’d be ignoring the obvious _not_ talking about it and its hugeness.”

That earns Strider a slap, which the asshole dodges. Strider walks back to the car with you following, saying how he was a stupid shades wearing douchebag who talked you into wearing all these ridiculous clothes because he probably gets off on it.

You end up making out in the front seat. You climb into his lap and bite his bottom lip, purring. You tell him how much you hate his stupid shades and want to hide them one day so he’s blind as a bat. Strider whispers back that he’ll bury Troll Serendipity in the backyard so you’ll never find it. You growl when he bites your neck. You grind your bulge and nook against his leg him gasping.

“You’re a horny fuck…” he murmurs as he licks your throat. “How are you still on your heat cycle?”

“I don’t think I am…” you purr, “…I just want you to fuck me.”

“You are a still a horn— _whoah!”_

Because that’s the moment you feel the hovertruck lurch forward and slide through the parking lot. You scramble off of Dave’s lap as the hovertruck glides along the pavement. You land face-first in the passenger’s seat. The hovertruck lurches along until it comes to a screeching halt.

“Okay.” Strider gasps, “Okay…new rule. No making out in the front seat because your ass hit the altitude button.”

“It’s not my fault!” You grunt and sit upright in the passenger’s seat, “You were the one that riled me up!”

“A mistake I should remember _not_ to make when you’re like this.” Strider considers, “You seriously need to go fuck a troll. Why not Nitram?”

“He’s a tool is why!”  

“Yeah, but can’t you do that whole hate-fucking thing you trolls do?”

“ _Ew!_ ”

“What about Eridan? I mean, don’t you trolls not care about that whole incest thing?”

“One: I don’t have a real understanding of what ‘incest’ means. Two: seatrolls smell terrible, especially Eridan. Maybe Sollux is into fins and gills but _I’m not._ ”

“Didn’t you used to hate Sollux?”

“Yeah… _when we were in middle school._ ”

“According to Vriska’s Trollbook you’ve been annoying her to the point of pitch—”

“Stop trying to play matchmaker! Who are you: Nepeta?”

“You have to pick somebody and it can’t be me because _I’m_ not a troll.” Strider says. You feel the hovertruck shift around as its altitude adjusts. “I can’t believe I have to be the one to tell you about how your body works, Karkat. Didn’t your parents sit you down for a talk about the beakbeasts and the stingbeasts, or whatever you trolls call it?”

“You only call it that if you’re a thousand years old.” you scoff, “I think the better question is why you know that.”

“Bro’s rule of thumb is that if you’re going to date an alien, you should learn all you can about their species. You don’t want to stick your man-meat into anything that has teeth down there or is going to try and eat you so it’ll have the nutrients to reproduce.”  

You raise an eyebrow, “Are…there any creatures that… _do_ that?”

“ _No_ , damn it. Well, not on _this_ planet at least. It’s just an example.” Strider puts his hands firmly on the steering wheel, “Just promise me you’ll drink and get laid at the party, okay? I don’t need you trying to hump Jake or Bro because you haven’t calmed your instincts down.”

“ _Ew_! I’d never fuck Dirk _or_ Jake!” you mutter, “No matter how…muscular or handsome they are.”

“Okay. _That’s_ fucking gross _._ ” Strider groans, “I know you trolls don’t have a concept of stomach churning cousin-on-cousin _brother_ - _on_ - _sister_ action but _I do_.”

“What? He’s your _brother._ Jake’s your brother’s _husband._ What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is that I don’t want to think about my brother or my brother’s husband getting it on! It’s _gross_!”

You roll your eyes, “I don’t see what the big deal is. If you ask me, it’s easier to quadrant with someone you _know_ better than a complete _stranger_. Dirk doesn’t even _look_ like you.”

Strider pauses the hovertruck at a stoplight and frowns. “What do you mean?”

You shrug. “Well, you both look like your parents or whatever. For one thing, your hair is two difference shades of blonde and it’s different. Your hair is sort of flaxen and Dirk’s is a bit rough and short. Dirk’s face is also thinner than yours. His eyes are more slanted, his ears are pointier, his nose is also a bit pointier, plus his eyes are orange so he has a, uh. Whatchamacallit. They talked about it Biology…”

“Alvor Syndrome...” Strider mutters. 

“ _Yeah_! It’s from humans that have damaged genetics from eating soporific food so they look a bit more…’elfin’ I think is the word they use.” you say, “Pointier ears, poor eyesight, rough blonde or white hair…” You smile, “Seems like you lucked out with just the albinism thing.”

Strider swallows. “Y-yeah. I…sure ‘lucked out’.”

You look at Dave’s hand and see its white-knuckled, clutching the steering wheel. You touch his shoulder.

“Dave…? What’s wrong?”

Strider takes a deep breath. “…nothing. I just…don’t like talking about certain things.” he says, coolly.

“Don’t tell me that.” you say. “Just admit tell me what’s wrong.”

“Karkat…don’t push it okay?” Strider says, “I’ll talk about it. Just not now, alright? It’s just…I don’t like talking about my personal issues unless I really…feel comfortable with it. Other than that, I’d rather not bother. Okay? Okay.”

You sigh, “Alright then. I just don’t want you to explode from anxiety.”

“I won’t.” Strider promises and offers you a smile, “After all, I’m King of the Coolkids. It’s like I’m going to blow my brains out freaking out about something.”

That’s what you’re afraid of but you nod. “Alright. Fine.”

After all, your job as a matesprit is to be supportive. If Dave wants his space, you’ll give him his space. He seems to open up to Jake more than anyone else. If there was anyone on the planet who could get Dave to admit when something’s bothering him, it would be the large hairy Young British man.

* * *

It’s not a far walk from the Strider mobilehive to Vriska’s. You all grew up in the same neighborhood and are (relatively) close to each other. Only Feferi and Eridan live the furthest apart.

You know Eridan isn’t going to be at the party. You wonder that if he was invited, would he even go? He seems to be preoccupied walking around Park Avenue late at night, dressed like a…

No.

Not going to think about that.

It’s Eridan’s life and it’s best to let him live it. Plus, what are you even going to say? “Oh hey, little bro. I still think your beloved grandfather should rot in an acid filled hellhole but I was wondering: are you prostituting yourself for money? It’s not like I have money to help you out anyways but still! Just asking cause I’m your big brother! :D”

Yeah. That’d go about as well as a fire over a river of oil.

Eridan’s sixteen. He was pushed up a grade because he was smarter than your average kit. You’re not worried about him. He’s smart. He’ll find his own way out.

You keep walking down Shaker Hill Road, avoiding the numerous pot holes and heading for the end of the street—carrying two six packs and trying not to think about what emotional state your little brother is in. You have changed back into your casual clothes. It’s too hot for your sweater so you have a sleeveless T-shirt on, your baggy plaid shirt over that, and baggy jeans (the latter because you haven’t done laundry yet).  

You know the party must have already started because Aranea’s car is nowhere to be found in the mobilehive driveway and you can hear the music when you’re standing outside of Kanaya’s mobilehive. You guess it was Porrim and Aranea’s original understanding that they would at least live next door to each other. Now that the two can’t stand the sight of each other (for whatever reason they had) you wonder if they regret the decision.

You knock on the door, hearing the loud, thumping beats of Troll Ke$ha.

“Hey fuckasses!” you shout, “Open up!”

Vriska opens the door and raises an eyebrow.

“About fucking time!” the ceruleanblood says, “I was about to say you weren’t going to show up.”

You smile and hold up one six pack. “I brought the drinks so let me in.”

“Looks like you made good on your promise for _once_ , Vantas.” Vriska rolls her eyes and retreats inside of the mobilehive.

The Serket mobilehive has been cleaned up for this occasion but you can still tell a teacher lives here. There are awards of academic merit on the wall, from official certificates regarding Aranea Serket as a credit to her profession to unofficial awards made with Photoshop and love from various students professing how she was the greatest teacher a teenager could have. Another wall is dedicated to preserved news printouts Aranea must have deemed of historic value—the first human-troll encounters in 2021, the first news reports about the Ortiza Riots in Leder back in 2112, the first well-known human-troll relationship and marriage in New Jack City (and subsequent riots about such). There is also a large map of New Earth right outside of the kitchen.

The couch has been pushed into the corner to allow room for the snack table: Pocky, Rice Krispy treats, hummus, wontons, cookies, bruschetta, Doritos, pretzel rods, chips of various flavors, salsa (hot, mild, verde, con queso), and onion dip.

Somewhere…a nutritionist is crying.

“Would you quit scoping out the place like you’re going to rob it, Vantas?” Vriska says. She grabs the six packs and walks to the kitchen with it.

“I’ve never been to your mobilehive before.” you snort, “Someone’s mobilehive tells you a lot about how they live; what’s important to them.”

“‘ _Mobilehive’_?” Vriska asks, returning from the kitchen, “What are you: a thousand years old?”

“It sounds better than just calling it a shitty trailer like the rest of the neighborhood.” you say, unwilling to admit that it was what your grandfather always called them. You never picked up all of his Old Alternian lingo but you always liked certain terms, especially ‘mobilehive’.

Vriska rolls her eightfold eyes, “A trailer is a trailer. I bet they didn’t even have them on Old Alternia. You either lived in a hovel, in the wilderness, or in the Imperial City.”

“The Imperial City? You mean the Imperial City that was fucking _underwater?”_ you groan.

“There has to be at least a few air pockets or something! I dunno!”

“Vriska, your mother’s a _fucking_ _history teacher!_ ” you groan.

Vriska huffs and walks to the snack table. “Stop talking to me you colossal mutant pain in the ass! Go stalk Terezi like you usually do!”

“I am not a fucking stalker!”

But you do look for Terezi. The mobilehive isn’t very large. The furniture has been pushed aside to make room for dancing. Nepeta has already arrived wearing a tanktop and ridiculously short shorts that you’re ninety-percent sure she had to change into to escape Meulin ranting at her. There are a few people from school that you recognize but don’t actually know the names of. They must be part of Vriska’s crowd of hanger-ons and wannabe popular kids. The trailer’s crowded enough with just your inner group here. The universal fashion seems to be tight and revealing for this party but you’re not surprised. It’s a party full of hormonal adolescents. You wouldn’t be surprised if someone got knocked up here. It probably wouldn’t be the first time this has happened.

The front door is forced open. You look over and see Tavros accompanied by— _ugh_ —that giant clown. Remembering your previous encounters with the weirdfuck clown, you keep your distance. Tavros walks through the door with Gamzee by his side. He’s hanging onto the clown’s arm like he ownsthat hulking purpleblood. With his other arm, Nitram holds a cloth bag that looks like its carrying a six pack of something or other.   

 

Tavros glances around before snickering, “Way to fucking protect your home, Vriska. It’s a good thing I don’t want any tacky furniture or fake jewelry.”

Vriska walks over, grumbling. “Nice to see you’re still your asshole self, Copperslut.” Gamzee growls and Vriska looks up at the purpleblood, “Who invited you?”

Gamzee grins, “You wanna try _throwing_ me out, Spiderbitch?”  

“Sorry, Vris.” Tavros grins, “I was walking here and he just followed me. But who could say ‘no’ to this sweet little face?”

Gamzee bends down and kisses Tavros, grinning. “Oh like you’d complain about me following you home, Tavbro.”

“Now I didn’t say anything _bad_ about it…” Tavros chuckles.

 _“Ugh!_ ” Vriska groans, “Fine, you and you skeezy clown can stay.”

“More like my _awesome_ clown.” Tavros chuckles.

Nepeta bounces over and away from the grip of an aquablood she was flirting with, “What’s in the bag, Tafurros?”  

Tavros smirks and pulls a pink and black decorated six pack from the cloth bag. You squint at the colorful cans held inside of the cardboard packaging.

“Behold,” announces Tavros, “the best drink people thought necessary to ban.”

You walk over, your jaw dropping open slightly. “Is that…what I _think_ it is?”

Tavors nods, “Yes. The forbidden elixir, far more malicious than Faygo could ever hope to be: _Four_ _Loko_.” 

Vriska tilts her head, “Isn’t that stuff more or less liquid petrol?”

“Well, it’s an energy drink with alcohol, so _yeah_.” Tavros smirks, “The only reason they banned it was because those freshmen at NJU died of alcohol poisoning because they drank two cases in a row.”

“Isn’t one can equal to a six pack of beer…?” Nepeta murmurs.

“Oh yeah. The frat boy idiots would chug this shit and not know the first thing about chemistry.” Tavros rolls his eyes, “Alcohol is a depressant, which fights against the caffeine. Even though you’re chugging liquid gasoline, it doesn’t hit your body until later. So they’d drink two cans, not feel the buzz, and then get fucked over later on by it.”

“Yeah, we get the point, _nerd._ ” Vrsika takes the six pack, smirking, “Heh. Hopefully no lightweights get a hold of that stuff tonight.”

Vriska walks back to the kitchen. You hear a door open and shut and Terezi’s voice calls from across the room.  

“Tavros!”

You look over at the familiar tealblood. She is wearing a tanktop you could barely call a shirt; calling it a bra would probably fit best. You wonder if she took fashion tips for the party from Nepeta, or Vriska considering she’s showing as much skin. You notice that she still hasn’t lost her interest in wearing colorful stockings.  

Tavros grins. “ _Terezi_! I thought you’d be grinding on your favorite new DILF.”

“Uh, hey Terezi…” you mutter but you shouldn’t be surprised when she walks past you, making a beeline for Nitram.

It feels like a hornet’s sting you directly on the heart when you see Terezi hug Tavros like they’ve been best friends for years.

Tavros smiles and looks at Terezi’s tight, revealing outfit, “Looks like you finally loosened up a bit.”

“ _Gamzee_!” Nepetas chooses this as a good time to jump on the purpleblood’s back.

Gamzee growls, “Get off me, furbitch. I ain’t your godsdamned pony.”

Nepeta grins and kicks his sides, “Silly dumbass clown; you’re far too ugly to be a cute little pony. Now away to the snack table, my painted steed!”  

“I’m going to fucking _throw_ you on that table if you don’t get off me, catslut.” Gamzee growls.

At least you don’t have to worry about Gamzee trying to lock you in a room with him while nobody is looking. Nepeta and Tavros are the best clown-distraction-squad you could have employed.

Terezi leads Tavros to over to the TV “Come on! I’ve been puking my guts all day and I want to enjoy myself! Vriska actually got the SingStar that has all my favorite songs.”

“Is that why you’re not drinking?” Tavros asks.

Terezi anxiously chews her bottom lip, “Well, that and other reasons…”

After three minutes of working up the nerve, you walk closer to Terezi. You mutter, “You look good...even though you’ve been sick.”

Tavros rolls his eyes, “Piss off, Vantas.”

Terezi looks over her shoulder and groans, “What are _you_ doing here?”

“I came here to party! I can be _just_ as much fun as the next guy!” you say.

Tavros and Terezi exchange a look. Tavros rolls his eyes, “Bullshit.”

“Quiet, copperslut!” you growl.

“I came here because _Vriska_ said _you_ wouldn’t be here.” Terezi growls.

You smile, “Well, I’m here now so let’s dance or something! This is my jam!”

“I think I remember,” Tavros says with a wide smirk, “you stating on multiple occasions that you’d rather stab out your eardrums with an ice pick than listen or dance to Troll Ke$ha or any of her autotoned ‘hits’.”

“And I’m about to dance with Tavros!” Terezi puts her hands on her hips, “Go bother Mierfa or someone else for a fucking change!”

“Who the hell is ‘ _Mierfa’_ …?” you mutter. “And I’m a way better dancer than _Pinocchio_ here _!_ ”

“I’d be offended but I’m more curious as to how that insult even makes _sense._ ” Tavros says, “First of all, Pinocchio’s a marionette made of _wood._ My legs aren’t wood. I don’t have strings attached. I’m not trying to be a real boy. It’d make more sense if you called me something like, I dunno, the Tin-Man or—”

“Shut up, Tin Can! This has nothing to do with you!” you growl.

Terezi hits your shoulder, “ _Hey_! Don’t be mean to Tavros, Karkat! He’s been through a lot!”

“I’m good.” Tavros grins, “Chubby’s just jealous you don’t want to snuggle with him anymore, and who could blame you?”

“I am fucking not jealous!” you lie, knowing very well that jealousy is a huge part of the reason you’re here.

“Karkat, just _go_ …” Terezi sighs. She crosses her arms, “You’re ruining the party…”

“I am not! Here! I’ll prove how much _fun_ I can be!”

You shove through a crowd of adolescents and stomp in direction of the kitchenette. You throw open the door to the fridge and scan the shelves for a drink. If you’re going to dance to the bland beats and autotuned screeching of Troll Ke$ha, you’re going to need the help of Mr. Liquid Courage along with his life partner Lowered-Pride.

You see the six-pack of the forbidden Four Loko and grin. Perfect. You don’t even need to drink that much to get a buzz. You walk back in the living room, holding the can like Troll Indiana Jones discovering a rare relic.

 _“Ta da!”_ you announce, walking over to Terezi and Tavros.

Terezi sniffs the air and her expression goes from annoyed to mildly concerned. “ _Karkat_...” the tealblood says in a voice that makes it sound like you’re about to jump off the top of a building, “…that’s _Four_ _Loko_ …”

“So what? I’m here to _party_!” You crack the can open and immediately, the smell of strong alcohol burns your nostrils. You wince but power through it. You don’t care. You’re doing this because you’re going to prove you can be fun as much fun as Tavros. Without a second thought, you take a large slurp of the can.

“Oh _boy_ …” Tavros searches his pockets, “Hold on. Let me get my iHusk cause this shit’s about to get knee-slapping _hilarious_.”

Terezi sighs, shaking her head. “Drinking yourself into a coma doesn’t make you cool or a party animal, Karkat. It’s just stupid, well, _stupider_ in your case.”

“Is ‘stupider’ even a word…?” Tavros murmurs, now fiddling around with his iHusk.

“I’m not doing it to be cool!” you huff, “I’m doing it to relax and maybe…maybe I won’t be as much of a jerk as I’ve been before! I’ve been a jerk to you stone cold sober so maybe…maybe I won’t be an asshole when I’m piss-ass drunk! Sort of nature’s way of balancing things out.”  

Terezi stares at you, “…that has to be the most retarded thing you have _ever_ said.”

“Is not! Fuck, I ain’t even _buzzed_ yet! I’m ready to _party!_ ” you announce as you slurp down the rest of the can. You crush the empty Four Loko and wobble back in direction of the kitchenette. Alcohol still tingles your tongue as you sputter, “I’m _so_ going to get another! Shit tastes good!”

“How much alcohol is in Four Loko again…?” Tavros mutters, “A six-pack of beer per _can_ right?”

Terezi rushes over and grabs your arm. “Karkat, you are going to _kill_ your liver! Four Loko is not some watered down beer you can just _chug_!”

“I’m just trying to be fun!” you growl.

“No, you are being a giant douchebag! You are like those overly muscular, drunken assholes on Subjuggulator Shore!”

It hasn’t even been ten minutes and you already feel like you weigh an additional thirty pounds. Your vision is starting to blur and this grey smudge with red eyes seems to be talking to you.

“Listen, you…thing. I am not like those people. On that thing. Whoever the fuck you are!”

“I think the Four Loko is taking effect…” comments a grey blur with long horns.

“Karkat…” says the blur closest to you, “…Karkat, are you alright…?”

“I’m perfectly fine…lady? Damn, your eyes are big…”

You’re going to assume that those giant red things on her face are glasses. You’re not even quite sure where you are right now or who most of these people are. You’re pretty sure the one in front of is…Terrence? Theresa? Fuck, her horns are pointy looking. You better be careful. They might take your eye out.  

“Karkat…?” she repeats.

“Is that my name?” you ask.

The female blur sighs, “Karkat. You’re drunk.”

“I’m not awesome! I’m drunk!” you profess, yanking your arms away from her, “Wait… _yes_! That is what I meant and…oh my gods. Are your eyes made of… _glass?_ ” You whisper, “Are you…a wizard?”

You reach out to touch this magical woman. You pinch her cheeks and tug on her shiny eyes. Her eyes feel lose though and you wonder if you can pull them off her face. Would there be blood and gore behind there or something like sparks or magical glowing green goo?

“Can you grant me wishes…?” you ask, still touching her face. It’s cool to the touch.  

The longhorned one starts laughing. The lady-blur frowns and tries to pull your hands away from her face. “No! _Karkat_! Stop that!”

“But it’s pretty! And you’re pretty! Are we in love? Are you my girlfriend? Can I wish for you to be my girlfriend?” You learn forward and now try to kiss her. Maybe kissing would seal the deal?

This blurred deity, however, is not recipient to your affections. “ _No_! One time, _a long time ago,_ I liked you. Now I think you’re a jerk! Back off!”

You stumble back and try to maintain your shaky balance. “Really…?” You look at your worn baggy shirt and jeans and then look back at her. “But you’re so pretty…you _liked_ me? Why would you like… _me_? I’m fat and not really a great dresser.”

“We were best friends! We liked all the same things and you were…well… _cute_!”

“I…I’m cute? Really?” You are scrambling your memory, trying to remember who this troll is. You squint and mentally grope for a name, “…Terezi…?”

 _“Yes._ ” she huffs. Your vision is starting to un-blur and you recognize the pointed face though

“I…I didn’t think I was worth your time.” you mumble. “Didn’t even know you felt that way…”

“Yeah, you told me! You told me that a billion and one times and I already told you that _I. Don’t. Care!_ You spent _years_ wrapped up in your own concerns and…” She takes a deep breath and shakes her head, “…I’ve had time to get over it.”

You feel your heart sink toward your stomach. Your tongue feels like wet cotton in your mouth as you say, “Sorry……sorry I put you through this…for being a stupid, dense kid…”

“Yeah. I’m sorry that I had to _spell obvious shit_ out for you.”

You try to move closer to her but your stomach turns. You grimace and decide to remain standing where you are. “Terezi…I…really do feel like…w-when we stopped hanging out…something was missing but…but I now know what…”

“Someone to constantly bitch at about your problems?”

“Someone to…someone to tell me when I’m being stupid…” you mutter. “You were always the one to ground me back in reality…” You don’t know if it’s the ache from all the alcohol in your system, but you’re starting to tear up.

Terezi groans, _“Kaaarkaaaat._ ” She sighs, “Why can’t you just leave me alone? You’re drunk and I have someone else in my life now.”

“I don’t want to be in your life! I mean, not like that! But I…fuck. I just want to, to be like…” you mutter, “Fuck. I’m so buzzed but I…I uh…I don’t…don’t know what to say but I’m gonna try and say it.”

“Don’t bother. There’s nothing you could say to be drunk that would change my mind that you couldn’t have done _sober._ ” Terezi scoffs. She looks to Tavros, “You should put him to bed before he trips and hurts himself.”

“I _dunno_ …” says Tavors, “…if I keep filming the Vantas attempt at a mating ritual, we could make a pretty boonmint selling it to National Geographic.”

“Mating ritual? He’s just drunk and clingy and getting weird!”

Tavros rolls his eyes, “Like Karkat and Eridan weren’t conceived under _very similar_ circumstances.”

You lean against Terezi, whimper. “I miss you…”

“Karkat! Off!” Terezi tries to push you away. She growls at Tavros, _“Nitram! Help! Now!”_

“Oh gods. Fine. Don’t get all evil-glare-of-blind-death on me.” Tavros whistle over at Vriska, who is trying to top her score on SingStar, “Hey, Spiderbitch. We got a drunken mutantblood.”

Vriska frowns, “So? You got metal legs! You can carry him off!”

“Uh, my metal legs are only approved to carry all a hundred and fifty pounds of _me_ ; not the two-hundred-eighty that Karkat most _definitely_ is. If I break my new legs, it’ll be your head on a platter.”

“Oh fine! Stop whining!” Vriska stomps over as Terezi retreats from you.

The music is still going. People are talking, drinking, dancing and laughing. No one notices or cares your private, personal miseries. You almost wish you had made a bigger deal of the mess you put Terezi and yourself in;  

Vriska grabs your arm. “Let’s go, rummy…”

“But…I wanna stay with Rezi…!” you protest.

“No! I’m leaving!” Terezi turns away and walks to the door, “I’d rather spend the evening with Kankri at home rather than deal with you harassing me!”

You would have chased after her but your legs have gone numb. Vriska and Tavros have to hold you up to the best of their collected ability. 


	6. love and a case of four loko, part two

**== >Karkat: Be Vriska**

You are Vriska and you threw this party to relieve yourself of stress and reward yourself another year of putting up with your mother’s lecturing. One more year of high school to go and you’ll be done with all the bullshit of teachers, grades, and classes. And instead of relaxing, you’re trying to hold up Karkat so he doesn’t fall down and vomit all over the place.

“How in the hell is he still conscious? How is he not spewing this place with puke?” Tavros murmurs.

“Vantas genes? Must have a high tolerance for alcohol.” you grunt, “Let’s just put him in my bedroom until he’s sober enough to not be a pain in the ass.”

“I fucked up…” Karkat mumbles over and over again, “I fucked up again…”

“Yeah; getting drunk and then trying to confess your not-love to Terezi was probably not one of your brightest ideas, Vantas.” You grumble.

“Dizzy…why…why am I moving…?” Karkat groans.

You feel him wobble again, threatening to fall down. You grumble and help him stand, “Suck it up, Vantass. You’re not even moving that fast.”

Tavros looks at the both of you and winces. “Ugh.”

You glare at him, “Oh great. What’s _your_ problem?”

Tavros grimaces, “My _problem_ is that you both _reek_ of pheromones. Did you not put your masker on for the party or some shit?”

You feel the heat rise to your face. “Oh my gods; _shut up._ ”

You didn’t put your masker on but not because you were looking to get some action. You planned this party by yourself and with all the running around (along with reassuring Aranea time and time again that you weren’t going to have a party and that the trailer would be intact when she returned Sunday evening), you forgot it. You figured as long as you kept yourself from getting too excited, things would be fine.

Tavros smirks and adds in a whisper, “Try not to wriggle up _everyone_ at this party, Serket.”

“Oh my gods, Nitram! I already said I was sorry!” you whisper back irritably, “Just drop it _okay?_ ”

Tavros grins as you finally lurch Karkat toward your bedroom. You toss him on the daybed since you’re afraid he’ll drown in the recuperacoon. As usual, your room is cluttered. You have to pull your Sgrub ‘n’ Burbs books off the bed along with your bags of D-10s and D-20s off the daybed so Karkat can lay down.

You try to roll Karkat more on the daybed. “Move your tremendous _bulk_ , would you?” You realize that your bullhorned helper is no longer by your side and groan, “Nitram! A little help please! This guy weighs as much as a fucking cholerbear!”

 _“Nope.”_ is the response and you hear the door slam.

“What?” You leave Karkat half-off the daybed and run over to the door. You tug on the knob and growl, “Nitram! Open the godsdamned door!”

“Nah.” is the response.

“Why the hell not you _asshole_?”

“Payback, I think.”

“Payback?”

“Oh yeah. Remember last summer you knocked me up and then left me out to dry because you were a chickenshit coward?”

You pause, gripping the knob. Of course you remember last summer. It’s impossible to forget something like that.  

“I decided two things: one, I hate you. And two: I hate you. And three: I plan on making your life a living hell. So, you have fun spending your party with drunk Karkat in there. I’m going to have sloppy makeouts on your couch and ruin its upholstery with whatever fluids happen to spill out.”

“Hey! Don’t do that! My Mom will freak out and know I had a party!”

“Try and stop me, _Spiderdumbass_. Adios.”

You hear Nitram walk off. You press your ear against the door. There’s no way he’ll go through with it. This is Tavros after all; the same timid troll you would pester for hours on end back in middle school. He’s going to unlock the door and apologize for being an asshole.

“Hey Gamzee! Wanna fuck on Vriska’s couch?” Tavros asks.

“ _Sure_!” comes the eager response.

“Oh for _fuck’s_ _sake!_ ” You kick the door but its futile. You’re not even half as strong enough to kick this door in. You grumble and decide to think of an escape…which would be the window, on the other side of the daybed Karkat is laying on.

You climb onto the daybed, trying to avoid kneeling on groggy Karkat. You manage to get the window a few inches open, the rusty latches screeching the entire time. You are still fighting with it when you feel something grab your leg. You lose your balance and fall down on the daybed.

You look over and see Karkat has has his arms wrapped about your legs. He nuzzles your skin, purring loudly.

“You smell really good Vriska...for a Spiderbitch.” he murmurs.

Oh gods...he's in a pheromone daze. Tavros complained about your pheremones being a bit “strong” since you’re close to your heat, but _fuck._ Karkat’s pheromones are like a wall of cherry-scented air fresheners. How in the hell does Cronus put up with this, or anyone else? It’s not a bad smell though; it’s rather pleasant and comforting. You want to move closer to it, nuzzle against Karkat’s skin and...no! Scent or no scent, this is still fat-ass Karkat!

Fat-ass Karkat, who is currently purring louder. He rubs his face against your neck, planting soft kisses there. You see his red eyes are hooded with lust as he murmurs, “Vriska…”

That look sends a jolt shuddering down your spine and into your nook and bulge. You inhale sharply, breathing in his sweet scent. You fight against your instincts and push his head.

“Get off me Karkat!” You grab his horns.

Karkat lets out a soft whine and pouts. “Why _not_? You smell so good! You want to!” 

You huff even as you feel the blood rush to your cheeks. “N-no, I don't! I don't have any protection and I'm not getting wriggled up with your idiotic bulgespawn!”

Karkat gives another whine, tenaciously holding onto you and trying to get on top. His pheromones are getting stronger; a haze settling over your brain to ebb you into mating with him. You growl and shake your head…as if that would be enough to clear the scent trying to cloud your logic. You shiver as you feel Karkat press his hot mouth against the cool skin of your neck.

“But...I can't help it... your heat...” he murmurs helplessly.

You turn your head and your mouth catches his, lips brushing. The two of you briefly lock eyes, hormones and instincts taking the driver seat now. You reach up and pull him into a kiss, growling softly.

The two of you are all teeth and claws now; pulling at each other's clothes in a frenzy, as if your whole existence depending on getting them off as fast as possible. You moan when you feel Karkat’s claws scrape your back. You return the favor, clawing lightly at his shoulders, letting tiny rivulets of mutant-red blood slide down his skin. He growls low, looking down at you. You look up at him, defiant with hateful lust.

Your lips crash together again as the two of you struggle and fight for dominance. You are smart and agile but when it came to brute strength and weight, Karkat outmatches you. Soon he has you down on your back, both of you panting. The tussle has only enflamed your respective heats even more. The room is awash in pheromones. He leans in and nuzzles up against your with a low growl. He moves his lower half in-between your legs, lining up his squirming bulge to your nook. You feel your muscles go taut, feeling worry creep into you.

This is your first time you’ve taken anything in your nook. Contrary to popular belief (and certain big-mouthed high school gossips), you’re a virgin there. Your first time putting your bulge in something was last summer with Nitram. You swallow nervously and Karkat strokes your horns, his instincts most likely picking up on your sudden anxiety. He mumbles drunkenly against your neck.

Then you feel him slowly push his bulge in. You gasp, squirming about his bulge as he pushes in. Karkat moans, trembling in pleasure and trying to jerk his hips forward and pick up the pace. It is, at first, awkward as the two of you move and gasp, trying to get some sort of rhythm going—like two blind alligators waddling in a dark room full of boxes. Eventually though, the two of you begin to sync up.

His bulge slithers against something inside you and you gasp louder, letting out a low cry. Your claws dig deeper into his shoulders. He whimpers and moans, jerking his hips forward to encourage more sounds out of you.  
  
“Ah...! Fuck!” You moan, head falling back. He is hot; really hot. His bulge feels like its scorching and pleasuring you all in one move. Your hips now meet his thrusts eagerly, the two of you moving faster and faster towards orgasm. You aren't thinking about how stupid this is. All you can think about is getting more of Karkat inside you, to increase those feelings of pleasure and to satisfy the instincts now fully in control of your actions.

The two of you are making enough noise to rouse even the dead. Your daybed creaks louder and then...it’s like a coiled spring inside you snaps in half. You throw back your head and let out a screech of pleasure, your nook flexing tight around Karkat's bulge. Your own bulge spills genetic fluids against his stomach as the mutantblood comes to a screeching halt inside you, gasping like a troll coming up for air after nearly drowning.

A heat fills your body, now making you shiver.

The pheromones begin to diminish as the two of you lay in the afterglow, trying to catch your breath. Your eyes flutter open. You can still hear the thrum of the music in the next room and...are those moans? You snap up, alert again. You wince at a pain in your stomach but you ignore it, pulling away from Karkat. Karkat whimpers and curls up, mumbling about wanting to go home, wanting Terezi, wanting Dave and…ugh. You can’t believe your hormones just made you…do that…with _Karkat_ of all people!

You pause to look at the red fluids dripping out of your nook and grimace. You'll just take a morning after pill later on. Right now you got to deal with fucking Nitram. You hurriedly get dressed and use Karkat's pants to sort of clean yourself up. You force the rest of the window open and crawl out of your bedroom. You drop down into the brambling bushes around the edge of your trailer and quickly move to the front door.

You throw the door open.  

“ _Nitram_! Get the fuck off my— _oh my gods!_ ”

Apparently everyone had either left the party or retreated elsewhere in the trailer rather than see the activity going on the couch.

Nitram is currently bulge deep in Gamzee, who is kneeling on all fours on your couch. Gamzee pants with every thrust, moving his hips and whining for Tavros to go faster, or as much as he can pant with his tongue and mouth all on Leijon’s heftsacks. She mewls and purrs happily under the purpleblood.   

You have the wonderful timing of seeing this activity _just_ as they all finish. Now you’re going to need all the soap in your trailer to wash this image out of your brain.  

“Ew! _Ew!_ Off! Off the couch, you threeway having perverts!” you shriek, “ _Out of my trailer too!_ ”

“Don’t get your panties in an uproar, Serket.” Tavros is too windswept to laugh at you.

“Can’t believe we just up and fucking _did that…_ ” Gamzee pants, sitting up and trying to catch his breath.

Tavros smirks and kisses the purpleblood, purring, “You _better_ believe it.”

“Nitram wreck your nook yet, Gamzee…?” Nepeta purrs and sits up, tugging down her tanktop.

“ _Shut_ _up_.” growls Gamzee, but he’s blushing indigo.

Your mother is going to throw a fit when she sees the couch. She’s bitched you out about it before and all you did was spill soda on it. You hope you can get all the stains out before she comes back home.

You glare at Nitram as he leaves the trailer, with his arm wrapped around Gamzee and Nepeta on his other side. You still have Karkat in your bedroom though and he’s too heavy to carry out though.

You think of an idea. It’s a stupid idea but an idea nonetheless. The solution to your problem lies in the past, well, a toy from the past to be exactly: the toy wagon your grandmother got you for Winter Holiday years ago.

To be more specific it was a toy hydroelectro-wagon. It had a hand crank and if you spend enough time turning it, it would propel itself down the road at a lightning fast speed. If you didn’t feel like turning the crank, pouring some filtered water in would work just as well. You once modified it for a Girls Scouts racing contest. It’s old though and you’re pretty sure that it can’t go as fast as it used to.

Right now you’re just using it to drag Karkat around the neighborhood since he’s too heavy to be carried and too drunk to walk. You dumped a quart of tap water down the toy wagon’s faucet, which helps with lugging Karkat around. Karkat groans and holds his stomach the entire time, moaning about how he’s going to puke. You wince and hope no one puts two and two together about what went on in your bedroom.

You see the Strider trailer is dark so Dave must be out. Ugh, you hate dealing with humans. Egbert is one of the few that doesn’t spend most of their time staring at your eightfold eye. (Which you must constantly remind them is a familial trait and not a mutation)

You go across the street to Kankri’s trailer. You knock at the door. No answer. You grumble and leave Karkat parked on the lawn next to you. You walk over to the window. Kankri has always been the neighborhood voyeur. You never understood the point of him even having blinds when he seemed to enjoy the temptation of having someone peek in.  

Kankri sits on the couch with Terezi sitting on his lap. She kisses him, laughing and moving her hips.

“Oh my gods…” you snicker.

That seems to stir Karkat out of his stupor. He struggles to sit in the wagon. “W-what…what’s going on…?”

You grin, “Sloppy make outs.”

“What…with…who?” Karkat murmurs.

“Kankri and Terezi.”

“Wh..what? Wait…no w-way!”

Karkat tries to stand up and falls forward. You groan and drag the mutantblood to the door.

“You are _such_ a moron. You’re probably not even going to remember us doing it in the morning.” you grumble. You glance at the window, “Damn. Looks like they’re swapping saliva now.”

“Lemme go, you Spiderbitch!”

Karkat stumbles away from you and goes to the door. He kicks it. The door doesn’t yield the first time and he continues kicking it, until the door finally gives in.

“OPEN UP IN THERE!”

“Ohhhh…shit. _”_ You mutter. This shit has nothing to do with you. You grab your wagon and scamper off, not wanting to get involved in any shit Karkat stirs up. 


	7. red as sugar

**== >Karkat: Bust in there and see what’s going on**

 

You are Karkat and you are livid. Egging on by agitation and alcohol, you manage to kick the door open. The door swings open.

“AH—”

The door swings back around and slams in your face. You growl and kick it again.

“— _HA_!”

Terezi jumps a bit and whirls around, still sitting in Kankri’s lap. “Oh, what in the hell?”

Kankri raises an eyebrow. “Karkat…are you drunk…?”

“Fuck yeah I am and I’m angry! You two are in fucking cahoots!” you say, “What in the fuck, Terezi? You stop talking to me and start secretly shacking up with my alcoholic father! I’m outraged! Offended! Some other word that goes along with ‘outraged’ that I can’t really think about right now!”

“Karkat, you already _knew_ about this.” Terezi sighs.

“I did?” You pause, “I did…well, I’m still outraged!” 

“And for your information, Karkat, Terezi happens to be my matesprit. This is no one time fling sort of deal.” Kankri adds.

“Oh! You’re matesprits, you sordid hussy! I’m disappointed in you too, Terezi!” You try to shut the door behind you as you wobble over to the pair.

Kankri looks at Terezi, midlly confused. “Is he upset or…drunk?”

Terezi rubs her temples grumbling, “A bit of both right now I think…I thought he’d sober up by now…”

“Well, I’m drunk and you’re kissing him and things even though I said stuff like…like how I miss you and shit! I tried…I tried to talk to you and I just…f-fuck up and fuck I can’t think of the words and _bluggghhh!”_

It’s in the middle of your confession of emotional turmoil that your body decides it’s going to vomit up whatever is in your stomach. Your stomach gives you one warning heave before it all comes out and over the floor. Kankri gets off the couch with sudden alarm and Terezi grumbles, looking at you.

“Oh dear gods. Karkat, what did you even drink to get this drunk?” your father mutters, sounding a little disappointed in you. The fuck. You’d slap him in the face if you weren’t too occupied puking right now.

“Moron wanted to be cool and downed a Four Loko.” Terezi grunts.

Kankri sighs.  “We better help him. He’s never drunk before and he obviously overdid it. It must be the Vantas genes at work that he’s still standing.” He pauses and adds, “Did you say Four Loko? Where did you kids get that from?”

“Uh, someone brought it. I don’t know where…” Terezi mutters, pulling down her tank top. She glares at you, “Worst friend ever, by the way.”

“S-sorry…” you choke. Your throat is burning and you feel exhausted and idiotic. The previous hours are becoming a blur and right now you feel like a stupid little kid, like when you were seven and you ate your weight in junk food at the Mirth Gras and you ending up puking in the car on the way home.

Kankri walks over to you and takes your hand, “There, there, Karkat. It’s alright. You’re not used to the alcohol.”

“So where should we put him…?” Terezi sighs.

Kankri sits you down on the couch. You’re already feeling sluggish as you lean against the stained, old couch. “The couch is probably the best place. It’s already stained to the hell so a little more won’t matter.” The older troll tugs off your loose shirt. “Should probably get him cleaned up. There’s vomit on his clothes.”

“I’ll go check your closet then…” Terezi sighs. The tealblood returns a minute later as Kankri has stripped you of your clothes, you would be irritable and embarrassed if you weren’t so drunk and mortified with how much vomit got on your pants. She holds up a ratty faded sweater to Kankri, “Here.”

Kankri takes the sweater smiling. “Thank you, Terezi. I know this isn’t even remotely close to your concept of what we…planned for this evening.”

“He pretty much just ruins everything for me.” Terezi grumbles and walks to the kitchen.

“Terezi, he didn’t do this on purpose.” Kankri sighs and oh gods, you wish you could die or pass out on command. If _Kankri_ the Hopeless Drunk is sticking up for you, then you really must have hit the bottom. “It sounds like he was trying to apologize…in his own, muddled, confused way…”

“He spent his time at the party harassing me and trying to impress me when I told him to go home.” Terezi grunts and walks back into the living room with a bucket. “And now he’s here _bulgeblocking_ me.”

“You know Karkat doesn’t mean you harm.” Kankri takes the sweater, “Here, son…”

Kankri tugs the old sweater over your head. You grumble, feeling the itchy fabric rub against your skin.

Kankri then pulls down your pants, “Better take off the pants too.” You growl and Kankri rolls his eyes, “Karkat, calm down. I was there the day you hatched and then you had your little ‘streaking’ phase. I’ve seen your business more than I care to admit.”

“Should I grab a pair of yours?” Terezi asks. Her memory of five year old you refusing to wear clothes must be fresh.

“No, it’d be easier to…” Kankri pauses as he gets your pants off. “Maybe put him in one of my old skirts.”

“You have…skirts?” Terezi smirks and tilts her head, “What else do you have in there you’re not telling me about?”

You see a blush spread across Kankri’s cheeks, “That’s not important right now. I should have some in the bottom of the closet, stored away in some boxes that haven’t been opened in a long time.”

Terezi snickers and walks in the direction of Kankri’s bedroom. You glare at Kankri.

“What are you fucking planning?” you grumble.

“I know it may sound strange but you’ll thank in me in an hour.”

Terezi comes back chuckles and holding a velvet skirt, glitter flaking off it. “Why’s that exactly?” she asks. She holds up the skirt, “And where’d you get this little number from exactly?”

“A uh, long time ago, I’m afraid. It almost feels like a lifetime ago at this point…” Kankri takes the skirt and slides it up your legs, “And you’ve never been faced with the peril of having a painfully full bladder and being too drunk to properly unzip yourself.”

“I’ve never been drunk.” Terezi reconsiders a minute later, “Well, not _that_ drunk.”

“Well, it’s not a pleasant situation to be in.” Kankri huffs, “Damn, Karkat. You call _me_ chubby and I’m trying to get this skirt over your damn hips!”

“I am not fucking chubby!” you mutter, showing your teeth.  

“You have to weigh as much as I do by this point.” Kankri huffs and continues pulling the skirt on you.

You growl. If you weren’t so sluggish and tired, you would have hit him in the face for being so irritating. After thirty minutes of huffing and puffing, Kankri finally gets the skirt on you.

“I only have one question,” your father says, “Where’s your underwear at?”

“Um,” you mutter, “I probably….I’m not…well…”

Kankri sighs, “You have no idea, do you?”

You shrug, “I’m not sure…memory’s sort of foggy on everything right now.”

“I think I’ll go to home now. Mood is pretty much shot.” Terezi grumbles.

Kankri sighs, “You don’t have to go, dear. We can still talk at least…”

“With your drunk son here?” Terezi huffs.

“Well, we could just let him lay here. He’s not _going_ anywhere.”

“Still it would be awkward…”

You grumble and lay down on the couch, “Don’t worry about me. I’ll just be here waiting to pass out and then dealing with a bitch of a hangover in the morning.” 

“Well, Terezi, we were going to have to deal with this awkwardness sooner or later I think.” Kankri pushes your legs out of the way so he can sit down on the other side of you. “You are my matesprit and he’s my son and…you did feel a certain way about him…”

“Not anymore.” Terezi huffs and returns to sitting in your father’s lap. She lays her head against the older mutantblood’s shoulder.

Kankri strokes her hair, purring low. “I know…he was self-centered…”

“I’m right here you know. I might be drunk but I still have feelings.” You mutter, “I admitted that I missed you.”

“Told you this would be awkward.” Terezi mutters, snuggling closer to Kankri.

“He can’t help it. Once Karkat gets attached it’s hard for him to de-attach. That’s probably my fault.” Kankri says.

“He tried to hump me at the party and wanted to make out!”

You blush, “I was trying to _kiss_ you!”

“Sounds like something he wanted to do from before, the attempting humping I mean.” Kankri chuckles.

“Did not!” you huff, “I mean, well, I sort of but, you know…it’s a different sort of like I have for Terezi!”

“See?” Terezi grumbles, “He keeps confusing me!”

“Vantases have never been clear with their feelings.” Kankri sighs, “I’m sure you’ve read or heard about his holiness the Signless and how he preached love beyond quadrants, even though his own quadrants are complicated.” He rolls his eyes, “My asshole father was really no different in that respect.”

 

“Well, I don’t like being confused or led around like that.”

“Have you considered that he may be confused as well? There’s no quadrant between pale and flush.”

“Ugh.” Terezi grunts and snuggles close into his sweater, “I just want _stable_ quadrants.”

“I’m not exactly what you would call ‘stable’ at least in the quadrant sense.” Kankri admits, “I harbored a flush crush on many people over the years and nothing came to fruition. You’re still young, Terezi. You’re both young. You’re at an age where quadrants are hard to solidify for the rest of your lives. I know Karkat does care about you in that pale-flush way, which is nameless but still.”

“Yeah and then he never even noticed I like him and it hurts, you know?” Terezi tilts her head, “Is Karkat still conscious or…”

Your lids are half open. You feel like you weigh a thousand pounds but you’re very much awake; awake and horribly groggy. You wish you could pass out right now instead of having to listen to Terezi and Kankri being so fucking cute and flush with each other.

“I was the same way when I was young; wrapped up in my own little world and concerns. It’s all a phase. All Vantases probably go through it. My father was so consumed by hatred that he burned up…” You hear Kankri whispers, “…like a brilliant star.”

“I get this feeling the two of you had a very interesting relationship.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I think there were a lot of things going on between you and Vantas Senior under the surface.”

“Well…perhaps.” Kankri clears his throat, “All in the past now and nothing to do about it. He’s dead and I’m not. Karkat, what are you doing?”

You grunt and try to sit up, but your body’s not obeying your command. You feel like a character in a glitch videogame.

“Here, let me help you up, Karkat.” Your father reaches over and grabs your hand, helping you sit up. He says to Terezi, “He can’t hold his liquor. Probably nature’s way of telling him not to drink.”

“Probably thought it was genetic to hold it like you.” Terezi teases.

Kankri shakes your head as you fully sit up. “I can’t hold my liquor very well either…unless I was depressed and didn’t care what condition I was in as I continued drinking. Plus, Cronus always made sure I didn’t have too much. The worst was when…my father died.”

“I bet he meant a lot to you.” Terezi purrs, nuzzling Kankri’s cheek.

“Yes…I suppose he did in the long run. It matters not.” Kankri purrs and kisses her, “Flush you…”

Terezi kisses him back, flicking her tongue in his mouth, “Flush you back…”

Ugh. Your stomach is starting to turn and not just from these two being so disgustingly sweet to each other. You wobble to your legs and teeter-totter. You lurch from the couch, trying to ignore the two.

“Need help, Karkat?” your father asks.

You grunt, irritated with all this flush going on around you. You stagger to the bathroom.

Your father shrugs. “I guess he’s fine.”

Terezi kissed him once more, “Oh, stop worrying about him. You know, Karkat. He likes his independence.”

“You’re intent on having my full attention tonight, aren’t you?” Kankri purrs.

“Considering everything that’s going on, why not?” Terezi smiles, “We’re going to have a future together.”

You hear Kankri playfully whisper, “Yeah, just the three of us…” 

You go into the bathroom and try to stay aware of your surrounding as you empty your incredibly full bladder. You hate to admit it, but Kankri’s experiences as an alcoholic are helping out right now. If you were this groggy and still in pants, you’d have a serious problem on your hand.

Your head hurts. You desperately need to shower. You also want to sleep. You wash your hands and look at yourself in the mirror. You look like you’ve been run over by a hovercar…three times in a row before jumping off a cliff. You go to open the door when you hear a loud moan come from the living room. Ugh. You really don’t want to see Terezi and Kankri having sex. That’s not an image you want burned inside your mind.

You decide to clean up instead. The dulling effect of the alcohol is leaving you and only making you more aware of the unpleasant bile-taste in your mouth and the ache in your head. You borrow Kankri’s toothbrush and mouthwash to get the taste of bile and cheap food out of your mouth. You toss it in the trashcan and promise yourself to buy him a new one tomorrow morning. You wash your face too and the corners of your mouth. When the noise outside the door ceases, you peak out. You can’t see very much of the living room from the bathroom: only the couch. Terezi is sitting up, pulling down her tanktop while Kankri is most likely laying down on the couch.

“Where’s Karkat?” Kankri murmurs, low and sleepy. 

“Bathroom probably.” Terezi yawns.

“I hope he didn’t hurt himself. He’s still most likely coming off the alcohol.”

“I’ll go check on him for you.”

Terezi bends down to kiss Kankri again before sliding off the couch. You glance away, not wanting to look at Terezi as she pulls pants on. You might have mixed-up feeling for her but you’re not a creep who’s going to leer on her when naked—that’d just be an asshole move.

You move out of the bathroom and look around. Fuck, you don’t know where to go. You’re too buzzed to trust yourself to walk over to the Strider trailer. You’re exhausted and embarrassed as fuck from acting so fucking odd at the party (or at least what you’ve heard). Your head is fucking pounding too.

You end up sitting on the ground in front of where your room used to be, but you moved out last week. You curl up into a ball and wait for your headache to go away.

Terezi walks down the hallway and sighs, “Come on Karkat…I don’t think Cronus will mind you crashing on his daybed for the night.”

You turn away from her. “I don’t want the daybed…”

She tugs on your arm, “You can’t sleep in the hallway, Karkat. Come on…”

“Why are you helping…?” you grumble, “I…I thought you hated me….”

“I’m only helping you because Kankri is worried about you and it’s his wriggling day and I want to let him relax.”

“Sure. Fine. Whatever…” you grunt and stand up.

Terezi helps you to your old room, which is now Cronus’s room. Obviously Cronus did some serious redecorating once you left. There are pin-up posters of human girls in bikinis and posters from human TV shows like Young Britain’s Next Top Barbarian Model, or Bachelorette Cake Decorating Challenge. You’re particularly unnerved by the picture of a human woman wearing nothing but a frosting bikini and a logo in the corner saying you can catch the hot new episodes of Bachelorette Cake Decorating Challenge on the NJ2 every Thursday night.

“It’s like a conservative’s worst nightmare in here. Lusting after human women.” you mutter.    

“Like you honestly have room to judge.” Terezi chuckles, “Like father, like son.”

You sit on the daybed and sigh, “Mother. I think.” You rub the back of your head, “So…Kankri’s completely sober for now. Congrats. I guess.”

Terezi shakes her head. “It’s only been a week. Still going to take a lot of work.”

“You can do it…” you mutter, bitterly, “…maybe you’ll work out because you actually…he actually _likes_ you…”

You hope you don’t sound too bitter about that.

“Well yes…he picked me up when I felt like I was at my lowest.” Terezi sighs.

“That’s good. I’m glad he was…there for you.” You lay down on the bed, “Yeah. Go on. Go snuggle with your matesprit or whatever.”

“…and what is wrong with me having a matesprit?”

“Nothing.” you huff, “I just hope you never get angry at him.”

“Karkat…” Terezi groans and facepalms, “We were never a thing and you are acting like a jealous ex!”

“It felt like were a thing though! I was a part of your life, whether we had a name for it or not and now you’re…you’re mad at me and I understand. I know I was a shit but I…I miss you. I miss talking to you.”

“Talk about what?” Terezi huffs, “Everyone you have issues with, complaining about Kankri, complaining about Cronus, complaining for hours about Dave despite wanting to bone him?”

“Yeah, I know but…if I didn’t complain, if I didn’t vent, that shit would just build up in my brain and I’d go insane or get bitter as all fuck like my grandfather did. And if I didn’t complain, you wouldn’t have helped me. Talked to Dave about…how I felt and couldn’t say it. You know I’m shitty with relationships. Terezi, you’re my only friend and even I fucked that up…who else do you think I can talk to?”

“Don’t you talk to Kanaya?”

You shrug, “Sometimes…only when I’m freaked the fuck out enough…”

“Why not talk to her instead?” she asks, exasperated. “She’ll listen to your rants.”

“It’s not the same. Plus, Kanaya’s got her own worries, y’know? You’re…you’re stable, Terezi. You got your life all planned out with your matesprit. I’m…jealous I guess. Sometimes I still worry if this is just a passing thing with Strider or if…fuck, I’m doing it again. Aren’t I…?”

“Yep.” Terezi sighs, “Everyone does it now. Just heap all their problems onto poor Terezi because for some fucking reason _she_ has all the answers.”

You frown. “Well…I won’t.” You sit up and look at Terezi, “Just…well, tell me how you are. What’s going on with you? I…I’m going to listen to you. For once, I’m going to listen to your problems instead of me just…bitching.”

Terezi stares at you and after a minute she awkwardly shrugs, “…nothing much.”

You smile. “Well, you must be happy you got Kankri, though I always thought you’d be the one to get out of this place. Go to college and meet some…really rich guy and you’d get married on an island he owns somewhere in the southeast or one of those underwater cities.”

Terezi sits on the daybed across from you. “Yeah…you used to draw pictures of us getting married when we were little. That’s why I thought we were going to end up as matesprits.”

“What? Oh…” Your face reddens. Your memory of those little scratches of crayon on old crumpled paper you’d find lying around the house comes back, “I wanted to palemarry you...”

Terezi takes off her glasses and rubs at them, mildly annoyed. You look at the scars around her useless eyes. “Well that was stupid kit stuff.”

“No..not really. I mean, fuck. I always had trouble trying to say this to you but I still…I mean I’d palemarry you now. I don’t know if I feel flush or pale for you…that’s the problem really. It’s something I can’t...describe. Like, I feel like my grandfather trying to talk about how he felt about the Disciple…”

“Contempt when she picked Darkleer over him?” Terezi snorts.

“No! I mean, how he felt before. Before…all that insanity happened. Like, fuck, I hate referencing it like this but how things were in the stupid Tome and how that Signless wanted love beyond a quadrant. Like…it feels like that except you’re not a cat troll girl…if that makes sense.”

Terezi shakes her head and puts her glasses back on, “It doesn’t make sense Karkat and we both have matesprits.”

“Terezi…a _lot_ about us doesn’t make sense. My grandfather was Jegus the Signless and yours was a martyr for his cause killed by a quote unquote ‘vicious pirate queen who was imbued with the power of the horrorterror demons and the forces of eldritch darkness’…” You mutter, directly quoting the Tome on that latter respect.

You move closer to Terezi and lean against her, “I only know how I feel…”

“I don’t even know what you feel, Karkat.”

“I feel…something warm, like a moirail with dots of red in it. Like cherry blood in sugar.”

“We don’t have any red.”

“I think there’s a drop…enough of a drop…so I can…do this…”

You kiss her gently, not putting much urgency or force behind the kiss. She tenses up and moves away from you, but not very much. You see the teal bloom on her cheeks.

“I have a matesprit, Karkat…”

“Yeah, I’m not your matesprit. I’m not your moirail, your auspice, your kismesis…I’m something in the blur. Something in-between all the quadrants.” You lean in and kiss again.

Terezi is still blushing and trying to shy away. “I am not being a moirail with pails.”

“You mean more to me than that!” You huff and nuzzle her. You soon start purring.

“Look, this is _too_ confusing for me!”

“I missed you so much.” You mutter and snuggle closer to her. You’re not in it for the kissing but for the intimacy as well. You miss having her next to you.

“Karkat. Ugh. Are all mutantbloods this snuggly?” Terezi huffs, “And what would your father say about you kissing his matesprit?”

“I think he’d be fine with it because he loves you no matter what.”

“You have a matesprit too, Karkat.”

“Yeah, but he’s pretty open midned too…”

Terezi moves back on the bed. You move after her.

“Doesn’t mean I’m going to kiss you.”

“I don’t want to just kiss you either, Terezi…I treat you horribly when I was supposed to be your friend…I…I want to do something for you…” You move in close and kiss her again.

“And…what is that exactly?”

“Anything you want me to.” You smile, “I’m your personal slave.”

Terezi stares at you, “Uh…Karkat? That’s not my kink…”

You groan, “I don’t mean slave like handcuffed, blindfolded, bend me over, spank me and make me call you master! I mean...I’ll do what you want…”

You slide down her body and kiss her collarbone. “Anything, okay…?”

“What are you doing?” Terezi grumbles, looking down at you. 

“This…”

You push her legs apart and kiss the inside of her thigh.

You feel Terezi’s palm in your hair. You freeze. This is it. This is the test. If she pushes you off, you’ll stop right away and apologize for being an asshole who won’t leave her alone. You should probably leave if that happens. It’d be way too awkward staying here after that encounter.

She grabs your hair but doesn’t shove you away. She’s holding onto you. You look up at her and see the tealblood’s face is flushed. She’s lying back on the daybed, chest slowly rising and falling.

“You shouldn’t do that…” she whispers, “…we could both get in a lot of trouble…”

“For you?” You caress her thigh, “It would be worth it…”

She smiles, “This is stupid.”

“Would that be out of character for me?” you chuckle and pull down her shorts. “Acting stupidly because of my emotions on a whim?”

“Sounds exactly like you…”

You smile and don’t say another word. You slide off her shorts and see her nook is still wet and her teal bulge actively moving around. You explore her with your tongue and really feel like a tourist doing this; coasting around and going by knowledge of what you’ve read about. You only vaguely remember your health classes about where certain nerves are; where to rub and press along. You couldn’t name the flavor of her fluids if you tried. You feel her legs twitch and then nearly enclose around you when she climaxes.

She grins at you when you remove your mouth, “You’re licking up Kankri’s fluids too.”  

“Heh. No protection, young lady? I’m so very shocked.” You chuckle.

Terezi rolls her eyes, “Damage already done in that regards.”

You wipe at your mouth smirking, “And yeah, I don’t care. We’re all related in some way. It’s not like with the humans who flip out about every little thing. And it’s like he’s listening in or anything.”

Terezi strokes your horns smiling. “Something tells me you won’t stop here.”

You blush, “W-well…”

She smiles, “You really are Kankri’s son…”

You sit up and start to fumble with your skirt, “Can…can I…?”

Terezi leans up and kisses you. “Just this once…okay?”

“Okay…”

You kiss her back purring.

“And…”

With one hard shove, she pushes you flat on your back. You fall over over easy. Terezi smirks and hikes your skirt up.

“I am on top.” says the tealblood, “Just because I’ve decided to sort of forgive you doesn’t mean I’m going to be on the bottom, like you are with Dave.”

“Hey!” You blush, “T-that’s private!”

Terezi snickers, “Heh…so called it. I just took a wild guess that he never lets you top.”

“Does too!”

You growl playfully at her as she rubs her nook against your bulge. You feel the chill of her nook slide over you and pant. She’s grinding on you as much as possible. You don’t even have to do much. You’re her perfect troll marionette. She leans slightly to the left and you moan. She only tilts forward a little and you gasp, trying to climax too early.

She teases you about Strider the entire time as well. You’re not sure if it’s tantalizing or frustrating as all fuck.

“I’m gonna ask him later… _mmm_ …gonna ask him over Trollichum! Heh!”

“You better, _ah gods_ , not!”  

You tremble more and eventually you climax, adding more genetic fluids to the mutantblood slurry inside of Terezi. She coats your stomach in teal and then flops down on the bed next to you.

You lay in silence for a few minutes.

“I still don’t flush you.” she says.

“I know.” you say.

“It was nice though.”

You smile, “Still mad at me?”

Terezi sighs and kiss you gently. “I’ll forgive you…but you better not go back on your word.”

“Will you hit me if I’m in danger of becoming an asshole again?”

“I’ll kick you in the shame globes.”

You tilt your head, “Where are those…?”

Terezi pokes you where your bulge is. “Right under your eggsack.”

“Is _that_ where they are?”

“Did you _never_ pay attention in health class?”

“Health class was middle school!” You grumble and kiss her cheek. “You expect me to pay attention when there’s just slides and someone droning on about heat cycles and proper protection?”

Terezi smiles, “Like you ever paid attention to any of that.”

“Neither did you.” you tease, “You and Kankri picked out names yet?”

Terezi’s eyes widen, then she smirks. “So you _were_ paying attention.”

“I’m not a complete dumbass, Pyrope. I did take your advice not to be so self-absorbed all the time.” you say, “Being sick and groggy earlier in the week? Going to the doctor so suddenly? Not drinking at the party? Kankri and you talking about three of you…you’d have to be an idiot not to put it together.”

Terezi blushes and touches her stomach, “Yeah…went to the doctor and he confirmed it.”

“You keeping it?”

“Of course I am! It’s my matesprit’s offspring. I’m not going to sell them off like some heartless creature or just… _give_ them away.”

You grin, “Then you definitely need me helping you. It’s a bitch going to school and being wriggled up.”

“I know…” Terezi sighs. “It’s going to be a pain but I only have a year left…”  

“That’s what Sollux and me are for. We’re going to take care of you.”

She smiles, “Really now?”

“Yup. Carry your books and everything.”

She kisses you, “Good….night, Karkat.”

“Night, Terezi.”

You lay there on the bed, sighing contently and nestled against your best friend in the world. 

 


	8. epilogue

**== >Kankri: Investigate noise from Cronus’s room**

 

You are Kankri and you listen to the soft sound of teenagers breathing slowly. You’re not sure how long this quadrant will last between Terezi and you, but as long as she is happy, you will be happy. After all, you’ve never had anyone care about you. It’s about time you return the favor.

“All is right with the world.” You sigh and had to your bedroom. It’s been a long night and you could use a rest. You’re more than sure Karkat will wake up tomorrow with a pounding head and the weight of tonight’s events resting on his shoulder.

* * *

END OF ACT ONE.


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